DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH
by Alexokerry
Summary: Duo's life is hell and things are getting worse. Will he find acceptance and love from the snobby kids in the Winner school?
1. Chapter 1

**A CHANCE MEETING**

Duo struggled through the biting October wind. He pulled the frayed collar of his threadbare jacket a little closer to his neck in the fragile hope that it would protect him from the frozen fingers of breeze that crept past the feeble barrier. His father hadn't seen the need to get him a new coat for winter. He could still fit into the one that his older, half-brother had handed down to him three years ago. There was no use in trying to explain to the old man that things wore out and, for some reason, they seemed to wear out faster when they were owned by his brother, Owen Simpson Reid Jr AKA OJ.

A particularly strong gust helped him decide to take the shorter way home. A trail wound its way through a thick copse of trees. That wooded area was the only thing standing between him and the warm house. And, even though the branches lacked leaves, they would still provide some protection from frequent gusts of wind. He quickly hopped the chain link fence and followed the well-worn path. Duo jogged along, trying to raise his body temp while hurrying home, but paused when the sound of a struggle caught his attention. He didn't recognize whom the higher-pitched voice belonged to, but OJ's nasally sneer echoed loud and clear through the solemn cathedral of the woods.

_'Damn,'_ he thought. _'Sounds like OJ's found himself another victim.'_ He sighed, knowing what needed to be done, but dreading the fact that he would have to do it. He waited to see if any rescuers were going to show up. As the second voice became more panicked he made a decision. _'Doesn't sound like anyone else is going to come to the rescue. Damn! I hate doing this. Where is the white knight when I need him? Why the hell do I do this? Why should I waste my time and risk getting into trouble with Senior over somebody that I don't know?'_

_'Because,'_ his traitorous mind reminded him, _'you're better than the hypocrites that say they want to protect children then turn their backs on one that really needs them. So, stop whining and start rescuing!' _He squared his shoulders and followed the sounds of the brawl.

He stepped into a hidden clearing, only to see his older half-brother trying to rip the slacks off a slight, blonde boy. The boy's pale blue shirt lay in shreds near them and a few strips of the material had been used to bind the blonde's hands. Duo knew who the young man was . . . . Quatre Raberba Winner . . . . . the richest boy in school and the youngest son to their father's employer. How dense could OJ be? Attacking the son of the man whose approval meant a job for their father?

"OJ," he shouted over the terrified mewls coming from the other boy. "Leave him alone!"

His brother whipped his bulk around and sneered at him. Duo had never seen someone truly sneer, outside of movies, and the expression made his brother look even more like a petulant, spoiled bully. The bigger boy played on the school's football team as a fullback and happened to be built like a brick outhouse. Of course it didn't help matters that he had the same amount of brains as a shithouse. He couldn't recognize anyone who didn't play sports, but Duo knew that OJ would identify the smaller boy's older brother.

"That's Zechs' younger brother, Dipshit," he said, pointing to his brother's victim. "Now I know you plan on attending Winnerton community college in two years and that you want to play on their football team. But I don't think that it's a good idea to try and rape your idol's younger, sweeter and beloved little brother, do you?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" came the nasally reply.

"Because I don't think that father would appreciate you getting him fired." Duo walked over and stepped between his brother and Quatre. "Now why don't you make like a tree and leave? I'll get things cleaned up here and then follow you home, okay?" He knew that OJ would be more than happy to beat him home, that would give him the chance to tell their father what had happened and put a spin in it that would lay the blame totally on Duo's thin shoulders.

OJ shoved Duo into his former prey and hurried off in the direction of their home. After the crashing sounds were completely gone, Duo turned and faced the poor, little rich boy. He seemed to be in shock, eyes looking past the braided boy and whole body shivering.

Duo sighed, realizing that he couldn't send the kid home without a shirt - who knows what would happen to him if he did. He shook his head and removed the dubious protection of his jacket. "Here," he said, placing the covering over the blonde's shoulders. "I think you might need this." He shivered as the cold air hit exposed skin.

Quatre blinked as the body-warmed woolen coat wrapped around him. His jacket had gotten lost in the mad dash for safety and now his favorite shirt lay in shreds by his feet. He struggled against the bonds holding his wrists together and looked at the boy who had come to his rescue. He identified him as one of the boys from a couple of his classes. The strange kid always wore the same faded black clothing and he sported his hair in a knee-length braid. Sometimes he came to school with bruises on his face or around his neck and Quatre had heard rumors that the braided one was a prostitute who would do anything to anyone for the right amount of money. He blushed at that thought.

"Th-thank you," he stammered, his mind starting to work again. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up just then."

"I know what would have happened and it's no problem." Duo freed the kid's hands, turned and started to walk away. "See ya in school tomorrow," he called over his shoulder.

"Bye!" Quatre chirped, waving at the quickly retreating back. When the braided boy was out of sight, the little blonde sighed and began to finish the walk home. He had decided impulsively to try a new route today. His older brother had always told him not to go through the woods, that there were people who hung out in the grove that would try to hurt him. But being fifteen and tenacious, he elected to find out for himself what really happened in there. He had gotten just out of sight of the school when the big ox had tried to jump him. While he was still rather naïve, he knew what the bigger boy wanted. And while that sounded so romantic in some of the books that he just absolutely loved, being rape didn't fit in with the plans that he had for the school year. And just as things started to look their worst, in walked the class rebel and he had literally saved Quatre's ass. He pulled the worn coat closer, trying to draw as much warmth from the threadbare article as possible. He stumbled out of the grove and straight into his bodyguard's arms.

"Rashid!" he shouted and hugged the man close.

"Master Quatre, where have you been?" Rashid asked, pulling the slight boy close to his chest.

"Well, I decided to explore the woods that you and Zechs said I shouldn't. I nearly got raped and was rescued by the school tramp. This is his coat. And he didn't feel like a bad person. As a matter of fact, he seemed kind of sad." Quatre knew he was speaking too quickly and probably not making much sense, but he couldn't control the torrent of words pouring from him. Even though the threat had been vanquished, adrenaline still pumped through his system. The added energy had to go somewhere.

"Have you learned your lesson?" the humongous man said, looking down at his charge.

"Yes, I think I have. Never again will I disobey what you and my big brother tell me, promise."

"Let's not make promises that we can't keep. Now, get into the car and we'll head home. Tomorrow you can return that ratty garment to its rightful owner and that will be that." Rashid guided his ward into the warm safety of the midnight blue limousine. After securing the door, he climbed into the front seat and drove back to the Winner estate.


	2. Chapter 2

**CRIME AND PUNISHMENT**

Duo crept into the almost quiet house. The eerie, not-quite silence had the hairs on his body crawling to attention, but he didn't dare start looking around. Most likely OJ's attack would come from the front and if he left his defenses open he'd be creamed toast, again. He had wandered around the neighborhood in the hope that the bigger boy would get bored with waiting for him and leave. But from the sounds of the infernal rap music coming from the living room, his plan hadn't worked. He went into the kitchen and began preparing dinner for the family. Not that he'd get a bite to eat, if OJ had anything to say about it.

The stocky boy found an unholy glee in torturing those smaller or younger than him. If faced with a bigger, older or more intelligent opponent, he tended to retreat into confusion. That was Duo's only protection against the bully. Confuse and conquer that worked every time with OJ.

Owen, on the other hand, was as intelligent as his 'foster' son and there would be no using intellect on him. He usually saw through Duo's inexpert mechanics and could twist them around in order to increase the braided boy's punishment for various unfounded crimes.

* * * * * *

Owen Simpson Reed Sr had married Duo's mother after his first wife died in a car accident, leaving him with a two-year-old son and no wife to help him get ahead. Exactly eight months to the day from their wedding date, Duo made his appearance into the world. At birth, he weight only four and a half pounds, but his lungs and spirit were strong and he survived and gained the necessary amount of weight in order to join his family at home. Senior didn't or couldn't believe that this tiny, fragile life had come from his seed and he accused Duo's mother, Angeline, of infidelity. Even after three paternity tests proved that the chestnut-tressed infant carried his blood and genes, Owen couldn't believe it.

Duo grew, never reaching the same bulk or height as his older half brother, but his mind was quick and he never complained about doing more than his fair share of the chores. He idolized OJ and would follow the older boy around, trying to keep up with him and his friends. After the third or fourth time he got the crap beaten out of him, he learned to keep his presence hidden from the older boys.

The Reed family lived near Detroit, Michigan where Owen worked as the head of public relations for GM until Mr. Winner managed to entice him to Winner Corp in the same capacity. Angeline worked behind the scenes, making sure that the household ran smoothly, that everything could be ready for unexpected guest in a minute's notice and that a hot, filling supper waited on the table when Senior walked through the doorway after work.

In the last year that they lived in Michigan, she noticed a small lump in one breast and talked to her husband about it. Senior didn't believe in going to the doctor's, said that they were for people with hysteria problems and were a waste of time and money. Why pay a doctor to give the boys their shots when they could go down to the health department and get them for a lot less. So, Angeline didn't have the swelling treated and after their move to Winnerton, it became obvious that her health was failing.

Owen decided that eleven-year-old Duo would be the perfect nurse, caring for his mother in her last days. And to get around the little problem of school, he had Angeline home school the boy until she couldn't do it any longer. And everyone was informed that Duo was a cousin and that they were his foster parents. A tale of false misdemeanors earned Owen Senior the respect and sympathy of his new coworkers. After her death, the boy took over more of her responsibilities.

The night of his mother's funeral, thirteen-year-old Duo had cried himself to sleep. Well after midnight, he had been woken up when a drunken Owen staggered into his bed and promptly raped the traumatized child. Within a week he found himself firmly ensconced in his father's bed, dealing with the indignity of the nightly _'stress relief'_. And inside of six months, Owen found a way of getting some of the more perverted members of society to either switch to Winner products or to stay with the company. And for three years, Duo did as he was told to do. The one time he ever threatened to go to the police, his father had threatened him with being put into a foster home and made sure that he knew that foster care would leave him open to worse abuse than he suffered at home. Duo never complained again.

Duo quickly diced up an onion, a couple cloves of garlic, some oregano and basil from the pots that sat in the kitchen's greenhouse window and threw the whole bunch into a heavy Dutch oven with a couple of dashes of extra-virgin olive oil and sautéed them until the onions and garlic were transparent. He then added three cans of stewed tomatoes, a can of tomato sauce and a couple cans of tomato paste. He stirred the whole thing together and then tasted it. The acidic bite of the tomatoes caused his nose to wrinkle up with distaste and he added a quarter cup of sugar to take some of the acid out. He turned the heat down and let the mixture cook. While it simmered, he fried up some Italian sausage and hamburger. When it reached a deep brown, he carefully drained the mixture and added it to the sauce, leaving the whole thing to cook down and marinate as he finished getting everything else ready for supper. He put a stockpot of water on to boil, for the spaghetti noodles, and pulled a loaf of French bread out of the refrigerator. He slathered a thick layer of butter on the bread, spread more of the fresh garlic over it and topped it with a thick layer of Parmesan cheese that he grated fresh with a special hard cheese grater.

When the bread lay ready to put in the oven, he started working on dessert. He mixed up a batch of homemade tapioca, adding in grated milk chocolate for a slight change. That concoction he threw into the microwave to cook it. While everything cooked, baked or nuked, he pulled out his schoolbooks and began doing the homework that his teachers had assigned. He never knew when Owen would have a new playmate for him to entertain and he couldn't exactly tell his teachers that he didn't get his homework done because he had spent the whole evening playing the whore so that Winner Corp didn't lose an important client.

He chewed on the eraser end of his pencil, thinking about the events of the afternoon. It wasn't often that Quatre Raberba Winner was found alone. Usually, the petite blonde could be located surrounded by the boys that made up his group of friends. The whole group included Wufei Chang, Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton. Sometimes Quatre's sister, Relena: Wufei's girlfriend, Sally and Lucrecia Noin — Zech's main squeeze, joined the boys. There seemed to always be someone around. Duo sighed, wondering what it would be like to have that many people around him who truly cared about him. And the list didn't include the forty bodyguards that were never very far away.

The sound of water hissing as it hit the surface of the stove brought him back to reality. There was no way in hell that anyone would care about him like that. His father considered him to be a bastard and lower than a worm. OJ echoed that sentiment and made the braided boy's life a living hell. And Duo knew that he could disappear and no one would notice. Hell, his teachers never even noticed when he came to school sporting a new black eye or when OJ stole his lunch, leaving him to starve until he got home. Nobody cared about or wanted him. There were times that he hoped his "date" would forget himself and just end Duo's suffering. He got up and stirred the cooking sauce, allowing himself a little taste of the slowly thickening blend. Supper would be ready when his father walked through the door at precisely six-thirty.

He gathered up the plates, silverware and napkins to set the table in the dining room. Every night he slaved in the kitchen, set two of everything on that table and then served both the _"real"_ men their dinner, taking his solitary meal in the quiet kitchen. And after they finished with their repast, he cleared the table, rinsed and washed all the dishes then did the other things that he would need to finish before he went to bed; laundry, ironing or one of the dozens of other things that his mother used to do before her death. In some ways he felt totally betrayed by her; she left him to this life of never-ending misery. He sighed and finished setting the table.

At exactly ten after six, he drizzled a little olive oil over the boiling water and then added the noodles, stirring as they went in to keep them from sticking together. The first time he ever made spaghetti, he didn't know how to stop the pasta from attaching to itself and he had gotten the beating of a lifetime. He learned quickly how to do things right. And there were nights that he could almost wish for a date - at least that would stop Owen from beating him; no one wanted a damaged whore.

Duo wasn't the only pony in Owen's stable, either. The woman who came in to do the deep cleaning, once a week, happened to be an illegal alien and her daughter worked for Owen as one of his _"entertainment coordinators"_ just like the braided boy. All the older Reed had to do was threaten the mother with informing the INS about her status there and she'd roll over and bare her belly. In Duo's mind, Owen became a bully and if this were Hollywood, both he and OJ would get their comeuppance. And hell, if this were a fairy tale, Duo would have a fairy godfather hiding behind the drapes just waiting to rescue him and hand him over to Prince Charming so that they could live happily ever after. Unfortunately, reality kept intruding and Duo knew that that life only existed in dreams or maybe after death.

At six twenty-five, he drained the noodles and served them up onto the platter. He dished out the sauce, pouring it into a large tureen and covering the dish. Then he pulled the salad that he had prepared the night before out of the refrigerator and made sure the pudding had set up. While the noodles had been cooking, he had thrown the garlic bread under the broiler and the pungent aroma of imported Parmesan and garlic filled the house. As he finished each dish, he took out his small portion and placed it on a plate.

Just as the grandfather clock in the living room began chiming six-thirty, Duo could hear the garage door opening and the low hum of Owen's car as he pulled carefully into the garage. Quickly he placed the food on the dining room table and made sure that everything looked as good as it smelled. He heard the door connecting the garage with the rest of the house open and shut, quietly. He hurried back into the kitchen to take his father's jacket, briefcase and any other thing that he might need to be relieved of.

Owen looked similar to his oldest son; tall, broad-shouldered with collar length brown hair and shrewd, dark brown eyes. The only difference between father and son was their weight; OJ weighed nearly three hundred pounds and Owen tipped the scales at two hundred. With his height — six foot four inches - and his age — forty-five — he still fit the clothing that he wore when he graduated from college. The only thing that gave away his age was is face and the heavily etched lines that creased it.

He smiled down at Duo, leaving the braided youth trembling with frightened anticipation. Something in that Cheshire cat grin caused Duo's heart to plummet to his knees. The older man caressed his son's cheek in a mockery of a fatherly gesture and the boy knew that something really not good was or had happened. He swallowed the knot that formed in his throat and looked at the things he held onto. Owen's jacket and briefcase were joined by a box from a Fredrick's of Hollywood knock off. The name had Duo almost hyperventilating until he remembered that several of his frequent dates used the same seller - it didn't have to be the one he automatically thought of.

He sagged into his chair, his appetite having fled with the sight of that box. He could hear OJ's voice bellowing over the so-called music. Owen's voice rose above the song with the command to "turn that shit off!" and silence reigned supreme for all of thirty seconds. Then Duo could hear OJ telling their father his version of what happened in the woods that afternoon, leaving out the fact that his intended victim was Mr. Winner's son.

"Duo," Owen called, his voice tolerating no disobedience.

"Sir?" Duo squeaked as he came into the room. Hopefully Owen would allow him to explain why he had interfered with his brother's hunt.

Owen grabbed his wrist, holding it very gently. "I understand that you intervened with your brother and his new boyfriend. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Only that the boy OJ chose to attack was Quatre Winner," he said, looking down at his feet.

"What?" Duo winced as the grip on his wrist caused the bones to rub together.

"I've got a couple of classes with him and recognized him right away. I'm sorry, Sir. Would you please let go of my wrist? You're hurting me," he whimpered. Duo sighed with relief as the pressure on his aching joint disappeared. And then his jaw dropped as Owen stood up and began punching his oldest son.

"You stupid bastard!" Owen growled, slamming his fist into OJ's stomach. "What are you trying to do? Get me fired? I can't believe that you're my son. How could I have produced such a complete idiot?" He pointed to the stairs heading to the second story. "Get your ass up there and don't let me see you until you grow a brain!"

OJ bolted up the stairs, blubbering and clutching at his injured stomach. After the heavy footsteps ceased, Owen turned his attention back to the slight figure in front of him. He sat back down in chair and studied the braided beauty.

"Duo," he said, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "What would you do to help your family?"

"Anything, Sir," Duo whispered, still looking at his feet.

"I'm glad to hear that, because I have a … ah … new/old client for you."

Duo's breath came in short pants. He knew whom Owen wanted him to see again, but he had been promised that he would never have to date that man again. Owen promised.

"Who," he murmured, his whole body shaking with fear.

"Roger Muscat," came the bland answer.

"No!" he said.

"Duo, you said that you would do anything to help your family. Is one date too much to ask of you?" Owen snidely said, standing up to tower over the terrified youth.

"Yeah, well you said I wouldn't have to see him again after he almost killed me the last time!"

"Well, the bastard did some digging and has information that could cost me my job!" He reached out and grabbed Duo's braid at the base. "And what he wants to keep quiet is a week of nights with his favorite little pony. And that's what he's going to get, understand?"

Tears flooded down Duo's cheeks as he looked at his father. "You _promised_!" he cried. "What did I ever do to make you hate me? Why don't you just kill me yourself?"

Owen's right hand flashed out and the back of it connected with the boy's tear-streaked cheek, knocking him to the floor. "You will do as you're told! Understand me, Bitch?"

"Yes, Sir," Duo replied, his voice dead.

"Good. The package I brought home is for you. I'll arrange for the car to take you to the apartment and pick you up at midnight." He sat back down and began eating. "I think that you need to go and get ready. And Duo, make sure that your homework is done before you leave, I don't know if you'll have time to do it after you get home."

"Yes, Sir." Duo walked up the stairs, into the bathroom and began getting ready. He knew exactly what Roger wanted and expected of him. His soul lay bloody and bleeding after having just been killed by the one person who should have loved him.


	3. Chapter 3

**PRIDE AND A FALL**

Duo sat on a fallen tree trunk, the icy October wind swirling around him. The sharp knives from the breeze cut through his thin shirt and eased the various cuts and bruises that adorned his body. Last night had been the hell he knew it would be.

Thin, black marks encircled his wrists from the steel handcuffs that Roger had used on him. Being hung from the ceiling, by nothing more than his wrists and barely being able to put weight on his big toes certainly didn't help the muscles in his shoulders. He sported a black eye and rope burns around his neck where his tormentor had practiced his breath-control techniques.

The tardy bell sounded in the distance and Duo couldn't bring himself to care whether or not he missed class. Just sitting in the cold felt good and the sore parts of his body were starting to go numb from the frigid air. As a matter of fact, his mind and body were starting to go dead. He knew what that meant, with the weather getting colder by the second and the first snowfall due by nightfall. Hypothermia wouldn't be a bad way to die. You just slip off to sleep and never wake up, all bodily functions stopped by the cold and you dream your way into paradise. There were worse ways to go.

Of course if his coat had been present, then he wouldn't have had the courage to even think of this idea. But since the poor, little, rich boy still had his tattered excuse for a jacket, he could hope.

He dreaded the thought of going into the school. Seeing everyone trying not to notice him and then talking about him behind his back. The teachers pretended not to notice his beaten face and body. One teacher had tried to help him and all it got the poor woman was a discharge notice from the district for sticking her nose where it wasn't wanted.

Quatre waited by the main doorway into the school, hoping to see his longhaired savior from the day before. Around him stood his group of friends. Wufei and Sally were off to one side, busily trying to swallow each other's tongues. Heero and Trowa chatted quietly behind him and he could hear his dingbat of a sister doing her best to attract the Japanese boy's attention. Their parents were set on the two of them marrying and joining the best of both worlds together. Well, Heero's parents and Quatre's father that was.

He couldn't understand why Duo hadn't shown up yet. He had seen the boy that attacked him come in over a half hour ago. The warning bell went off and still no sign of the one that he wanted to see. A feeling of wrongness clenched his gut. Something wasn't right and Duo needed help.

"Trowa," he said, looking at his closest friend and pulling on his coat. "I'll be back. I need to check something out; would you cover for me in homeroom?" The rooster-banged boy gave him a small smile in agreement. "Thanks, I'll be back before classes start for real, I hope." He hugged his friend and hurried out of the warm building.

He pulled his coat closer, thanking Allah that he taken it off for a bit before settling in to wait on his quarry. In his left hand he held the shabby jacket that he had been loaned the day before. He smiled at the memory of what he had done the night before and couldn't wait for everything to fall into place. The feeling of urgency pulled him toward the woods where he had been assaulted and he stopped for a minute. He shivered in delayed reaction. He had babbled out his story to Rashid and then changed the series of events to reflect better on him. Something told him that to reveal what had really happened would cause more trouble for the boy who had helped him. Besides, he didn't want people to think that he didn't have a spine and couldn't protect himself. He had his pride.

He stumbled through the woods, desperation coursing throughout his slender frame and nearly blocking out the invasive cold. Something wasn't right. The feelings that emanated from the hidden figure weren't like anything he had ever felt before in his life.

A soul-devouring self-loathing drew him like a moth to the moon. The life force that flickered just in front of him had begun to gutter, like a candle that would soon consume the last little bit of wax and then disappear in a quick puff of scented smoke. The path he had unconsciously found led him deeper into the copse and his footsteps instinctively sped up. Just as he reached a break in the trees where he could see more than two feet in front of him, his tired feet got tangled up in something and he went sprawling face first into the moist, loamy soil of the forest. The bitter scent of tannin, wet earth and dying plant life overwhelmed his poor nose and he sneezed.

"G' bless you," murmured a familiar voice.

"Duo?" Quatre asked, sitting up and wiping the soil off his face.

"Dat's m' name. Don' wear it out…"

Quatre looked at the boy who had come to his rescue not more than twenty-four hours ago. Gone was the tight, neat braid; Duo's hair had escaped its confines. A vacant, hopeless expression covered his features and once bright, violet eyes stared off into nothing. Of course only one eye could be seen through the patchwork of bruises that decorated the other boy's face and neck. Delicate wrists carried the mark of something thin and Duo held his arms close to his body like they were causing him pain.

"Duo," Quatre quietly said, "What happened to you?"

"Nothin'" the braided boy responded. He looked at the petite blonde sitting on the cold ground. "Nothin' happened. It was a peachy night. Couldn't be better. How was your night?"

"One of those men that you sleep with did this didn't they?" Quatre asked, his voice becoming sharper with anger. "Why do you let them do this to you? Why don't you just stop doing what you're doing and be good for the sake of your family?"

Duo stared at him, sense and reality returning to his eyes. "The sake of my family?" he barked. "Do you even know what the hell you're talking about?"

"I know that your foster father worries about you and can't understand why you do these things. Or at least that's what he tells my father. He really cares about you, don't you know that?" Quatre got up off the moist ground and walked toward the braided boy. Duo's lips were blue — where they weren't torn and bruised — and his hands were a pasty white due to exposure. "Why don't you come back and join us in school? I'm sure that Owen would be happy if you were in class." He carefully draped the clean, mended coat over the slender shoulders of the boy.

"Class. Oh yeah, we can't miss any school can we?" Duo sarcastically said. He looked at the little blonde who had brought his coat back to him. "So, what's the repair job going to cost me? You wanna ride the cheap little whore too? Is that what you're doing out here?" Duo's voice rose with each sentence until it was a near screech. He stood up and began backing Quatre up.

Quatre stumbled away from the other boy. Duo's eyes flashed with anger as he kept stalking toward him and something in that furious face made him even more scared than he had been the day before. He tripped over the exposed root of one of the trees that made up the small copse and the roughish-smoothness of the bark scrapped against his hands. He found himself trapped and the maddened Duo stalked closer to him. The braided boy reached him and pushed him tighter against the tree.

"You didn't answer my question," Duo said, his voice dropping seductively. "Do you want to find out why I do the things I do? Do you think you can handle the truth? Things aren't always what they seem to be, little prince." The pale, cold hands began to massage Quatre's groin through his pants and the petite blonde began moaning. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours he found himself at the mercy of someone who was intent on doing something to his body that he wasn't quite ready for.

"D-d-duo," he gasped, "please don't do this."

"I thought you wanted to know why." Duo glared into Quatre's softer, innocent eyes. "You didn't tell anyone about what happened with OJ yesterday, did you?"

"I told Rashid that I had gotten into a fight," he said, closing his eyes and turning his face away from the other boy. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," Duo choked out.

"You do?"

"Yeah. If you tell someone then it becomes real and you have to face what almost happened to you. By making it seem to be less than it truly was, then it really didn't happen and you don't have to deal with the consequences or even think anymore about what could have gone wrong."

"How would you know that?" Quatre asked, stunned to hear his own thoughts coming from someone else.

"Let's just say I've been there, done that and, as they say, bought the tee-shirt." He closed his eyes, but not before Quatre felt a flash of self-loathing and pain that nearly sent him to his knees. "Thanks for not getting the idiot into trouble. And before you say anything, I told Owen what happened and he punished the moron. So, you don't have to worry about him coming after you again." Duo dropped to his knees and began nuzzling the front of Quatre's trousers. "I guess that I owe you twice."

The petite blonde moaned at the delicious friction caused by Duo's face and he carefully worked his fingers into the chestnut hair. The feelings coming from the other boy were stronger the more contact he had with him and they threatened to overwhelm the delicate empath. A deep-seated self-hatred, a disgust of what he was about to do and the tiniest fraction of true arousal raced up Quatre's arms. His brain nearly shut down with the strength of the emotions and he moaned in pain.

Duo pulled down his zipper with his teeth and then used his frigid hands to pull the blonde's partially erect cock out of its protective barrier. He swirled his tongue around the circumcised head, teasing the glands underneath with his talented tongue. Quatre could feel the other boy's warm breath puffing against his exposed member. He nearly fainted when his cock was swallowed and touched the very back of the braided boy's throat. He felt frozen in place with his fingers buried in chestnut locks and his knees were getting weak. A low hum proved to be his undoing; he shot his load into the other boy's mouth, ignoring the soft sounds of choking that reached his ears.

Duo carefully let the organ slip from his mouth, being extra gentle with the over-sensitized flesh. He sat with his head down, waiting for Quatre to regain his senses. Something slammed into his back, knocking him away from the little blonde. A wave of pain washed over him as he landed on some of his injuries. Self-preservation forced him to scramble away and put his torn back against the rough bark of one of the centuries old oaks that made up the copse. He looked toward Quatre, hoping to see who or what attacked him. One green eye and a uni-bang faced him, the eye blazed with both concern and jealousy.

_Oh great! It's wonder boy's not-boyfriend._ Duo thought, watching the two of them together.

Trowa had gotten worried about Quatre. Rashid had told him about the fight when the massive man had driven the two of them to school. Trowa had shown up at the normal time to ride with the pair and the little blonde had run back into the house to get a package he said was for someone at school. Something hadn't been right about Quatre's behavior the night before and the bodyguard had hoped that Trowa could get the information from his best friend and secret crush.

After Quatre had left the security of the school building, Trowa had waited to see if he would return. He had remained where he had been when the other boy left him, after asking Heero to run interference for both of them. When Quatre hadn't returned by the time the tardy bell rang, Trowa had known that there was something happening and his little friend would need his help. There were too many predators that went to their school and while he found the petite blonde's innocent endearing, there were a lot of others that would defile and ruin the sunny personality.

It hadn't been hard to trace his little one: Trowa's father insisted that his only son know how to track and hunt and he put those skills to work. The signs of someone passing in the last half hour, heading into the woods and not out of them, lead the banged boy to the clearing where he saw something that both shocked and aroused him.

To see his little one, his sweet Quatre pinned against a tree while the boy that Trowa knew turned tricks at night sucked him off drove the banged boy to do something that he had vowed he never would. He became violent with the intruder, pushing him away from his territory. Of course he hadn't planned on Quatre getting caught up in his actions. The petite blond lost his balance as Duo was pushed away from him and he fell once more to the cold, damp loam.

"T-t-t-trowa?" he stuttered, looking up at his friend.

"Are you all right?" Trowa asked. He reached out and helped to right the fallen boy.

"I'm fine. I thought that you were going to make sure that the teacher didn't notice I'm not there right now."

"Yuy is doing it. You should be glad that I came when I did." He glared over at the other boy, not noticing the various signs of abuse on him. "C'mon. We need to get to class."

"But–"

"No buts. It's time for school and since you plan on doing something with your life…." He left the comment hanging and glared over at Duo. "Unlike some people you have prospects in this life." He wrapped a possessive arm around Quatre's shoulders and began to walk him back toward the school building.

"Trowa, you have no idea of what's really going on here," Quatre said, stepping away from him. A wave of brutal self-hatred washed over him, driving him back to his knees. His eyesight went dark for a few seconds as his brain tried to process the overload of emotion that swept through him. When his sight cleared, Duo had moved out of the clearing and was almost out of earshot.

"Quatre!" Trowa shouted as he shook the other boy.

"I'm fine," he murmured. "We need to catch Duo."

"Why would you want to go anywhere near him? Look what he did to you! He tried to rape you and took advantage of your sweet disposition." Trowa swept him up in his arms and began the trek back to the school. Somehow he'd find a way to make Duo Maxwell pay for what he did to Quatre.

* * * * * *

Duo limped to the building, clutching his left arm tight against his ribs. None of the bones were broken, that he knew of, but the pummeling that Roger had given him the night before caused some deep bone bruises and when Barton had thrown him away from Quatre they began to throb. He rested against the cold brick of the structure, trying to pull himself together. What he had done in the woods was inexcusable, but maybe someone would hear his cry for help; someone with the power to make things stop. Or at least that's the reason he told himself. Winner seemed like a nice kid and he had lots of friends. It would be nice to be that innocent again.

_Yeah keep on wishing, Maxwell,_ he thought, moving into the warmth of the school and heading for his locker. _If wishes were fishes, we'd all walk on water. I wonder what it's like to have a normal family. To not have to worry about OJ doing something really stupid or to have a father that loves you for being yourself. That's not going to happen to me in a zillion years. And, hey, if you're going to dream, might as well dream big._

His repaired coat went into his locker along with his backpack and he pulled out the books that he would need for the next couple of classes. He had missed about the first quarter of his lit class, but the teacher could be bought off with a quick smile and a few glib, but well-spoken words. He closed his eyes, pulled his thoughts together, pasted his devil-may-care smile on his face and headed off to his class. At least no one would see the tears behind the mask and if he lived through the week then Roger would leave Owen alone and things could get back to normal. It was funny; the abnormal had become normal for him.

Trowa and Quatre got about halfway back to the school before the blonde began protesting his treatment at the banged boy's hands. He wanted to walk the rest of the way back; reclining in the arms of his secret crush had some embarrassing results. About the third time he almost dropped Quatre because of his struggling, Trowa put him down. When his feet touched the earth again, the petite blonde found his hand gripped in a tight grasp. Trowa's feelings of insecurity and jealousy made the smaller boy smile with joy and then he remembered what he needed to do.

"Trowa," he said as they entered the building.

"Hm?"

"I need to find Duo and get an explanation from him. I don't know what he was thinking or what really happened to him, but I do know that he went out of his way to save me from getting beaten up yesterday and I owe him at least a chance to tell me why he did that to me."

Trowa looked at him through his bangs, green eyes serious and deep in thought. "All right, you do what you think is best. But I'm coming with you and we'll do it at lunch. Maxwell has the same lunch period as we do and we'll corner him then. Is that acceptable?"

"Very much so. But let me do the talking." He smiled up at the taller boy. "You don't always have a way with words and you're not known for the talent to babble like I am." He carefully extracted his hand from Trowa's, letting the other boy know that it was with great reluctance that he was doing it, and started to head off to his first class. The plan that the green-eyed boy came up with would be perfect. He would have some protection against Duo trying anything like he had done this morning and would give Quatre the time that he needed to figure out why the braided boy did the things he did.

Unfortunately, Duo had other plans and the meeting never happened. He managed to avoid Quatre and his friends for most of the week

But fate had plans of her own for the braided youth.


	4. Chapter 4

**LAW AND ORDER**

****

Duo shook his head to clear it. Last night had been the worst of the week. Roger had beaten him bloody and spent a good amount of time applying his foot to Duo's gut. Gym was the last thing that he needed right now, but there would be no skipping class.

Owen had gone ballistic when the call from the school had come on Tuesday afternoon, informing him of his foster son's tardiness to his first class. For some unknown reason, Ms Une, Duo's homeroom teacher, had taken an immediate disliking to the boisterous boy and looked for any chance to make his life a living hell. Fortunately for him, Owen didn't want to damage him too badly before his date that night, so he had gotten off with severe verbal assault and a few added bruises. But Roger had more than made up for the lack of abuse from his father.

Duo's stomach churned uncomfortably and he swallowed, trying to keep from tossing the little bit of breakfast he had managed to choke down before leaving for school. They were playing flag football in phys Ed and things had become very interesting with Trowa Barton glaring across the line of scrimmage at him. Duo had managed to avoid the rooster-banged boy and his naïve boyfriend for most of the week. He had gotten very good at avoiding people that he didn't want to deal with.

Duo huddled closer to the other players on his team as they discussed what their next play would be. With the other bodies in the circle, he was almost warm. For some reason, today, he just couldn't get or stay warmed up.

"All right," Mitch, their quarterback, said. "We'll send Duo straight up the middle and pull a fake. Jeremy, I want you to come back like you're going to receive the ball and then I'll pass it to Duo. Got it? Good. Let's do this." The team broke out of the huddle and took their positions on the field. Duo watched, with dismay, as Trowa took his place right across from him on the scrimmage line. The green-eyed boy looked at him and gave him a very nasty grin. Somehow, Duo knew that things weren't going to work as they had planned.

Mitch's voice sounded over the sharp wind and both lines went into motion with the snap of the ball. Duo ran up field, turning sideways to watch for the throw. The oblong pigskin sailed perfectly through the bright late autumn day, spiraling at the right angle, speed and whatnot to make a flawless flight. Duo caught the ball and turned back to start his run up the field. Trowa crashed into his side and they fell into a tangled heap.

The braided boy screamed in pain as he felt something in his chest snap with the force of the tackle and the shriek ended in an indignant squawk as the air was driven out of his lungs. The right side of his chest felt like someone had driven a red-hot poker through the skin. As the ability to breath came back he could feel his lung bubble with every breath. He coughed, bringing up a gush of red, foamy liquid. He sat there and just stared at the fluid dripping off his hands. His head began to spin and the edges of his sight started to turn black and close in. He looked up at his attacker with a puzzled expression on his face.

Trowa backed away from his victim, shaking his head in disbelief at the damage his temper had caused. He started to apologize to the other boy, but Duo never heard it. He passed out cold, his breath coming in horrible, wet sounding wheezes.

The teacher sent everyone back into the building with the command to stay in the gym until things were taken care of. He grabbed Trowa by the scruff of the neck and dispatched him to the principal's office with the orders to send the school nurse down to the field and to have someone call for an ambulance. He wasn't happy about the events of the day and had every intention of finding out just what was going on between the two boys.

Trowa ran for the nurse's office, his mind running over what had happened on the field. For some unknown reason, he had attacked a defenseless boy. He had seen part of what Duo had done to Quatre and that may have set him off, but he never really meant to harm the smaller young man. He shuddered with horror at the memory of all the blood spilling from the braided boy's mouth. Trowa's long legs made the lengthy distance to the medical area of the school a short run. As he entered the building, he almost ran down Quatre, who was heading for the bathroom with a hall pass in his hands.

"Trowa?" the little blonde said as he dodged out of the way.

"Later," Trowa shouted over his shoulder and continued on his way for help. He skidded to a stop just outside the office and listened to be sure that Ms. Po didn't have another student in the office with her. The sound of near silence made him feel better, knowing that he wouldn't interrupt someone else's time with the nurse.

"Ms. Po?" he said as he entered the room. "There's a problem on the football field and Mr. Daniels needs an ambulance as soon as possible."

Sarah Po, Sally's mother, looked up at the young man standing in her doorway; the serious look told her all she needed to know. "What's going on?"

"Duo Maxwell took a hit in our flag football game and he started coughing up blood. It looks really bad."

"All right. Tell your teacher that I'm calling the rescue squad now and will be out in just a few minutes. I have one more question for you."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"What did the blood look like?"

"It was bright red and well, kinda foamy, I guess is what I'd call it."

"Tell him I'll be there in about three minutes, can you do that?"

"Yes, ma'am." He bolted out the door and almost ran over the mystified Quatre again. He used the smaller boy to gain his balance and gave him a very serious look. "I'll talk to you later," he said, releasing the petite blonde and racing back out to the field.

* * * * * *

Duo woke up; feeling like an elephant had planted itself right in the middle of his chest. The weight made it difficult to breath and the wet sound of every breath scared him. Something wasn't right and he had the urge to run for the safety of his home. He tried to struggle to a seated position, but a gentle hand on his shoulder prevented him from getting any further than part way up.

"Stay down, Maxwell," the teacher said, easing him back to the ground.

The cold damp from the earth seeped into his bones and Duo began to shake. For some reason, his mind didn't want to work right, but he knew that if he missed anymore classes, he would be in big trouble at home.

"Gotta go," he murmured. "Can't stay here. Gotta get to my next class."

"I don't think you're going to be heading anywhere soon, young man," Mr. Daniels said, looking down at the fragile body lying on the moist ground.

"No! Can't miss any more classes. Owen said so." He tried again to get to a seated position. The world spun around him and his stomach threatened to rebel. He drooped back to the earth and closed his eyes to stop the spinning.

"I think that Owen will understand, Duo."

"You don't know him," Duo sobbed, his breath coming in short, painful gasps. "He'll…. never mind." Twin lines of tears ran from his eyes to his hairline. He stopped himself from sobbing again, knowing that it would only cause him more pain. The dull thud of shoes hitting the turf signaled someone's return. Duo turned his head to see who raced up so quickly. He looked on as Trowa sprinted back to the spot where he started this whole thing. Duo tried to move away from his attacker, but his damaged body wouldn't allow him to move. He cried out in pain as he shifted his ribs.

"Easy now," Trowa said, kneeling beside him and gently stroking his hair.

"You son of a bitch," Duo spat out around the lump of pain. The violence of his response caused him to start coughing again and he nearly choked on the thick, copper-flavored fluid that came up with the spasm. His eyes watered with pain and the edges of his vision became blurry.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the banged boy calmly said. He gave Duo a smile that was meant to reassure him, but left him feeling very uncertain of where things lay.

The sound of quick, light footsteps broke the tension a bit as Quatre ran over to where his friend and Duo were. The look of concern on his face worried the braided one just a bit.

"What happened here?" Quatre asked, reaching them.

"It's no big deal, Kitty-cat-cat-Quatre," Duo responded, trying to sound like his old self.

"No big deal? There's blood on…"

"Quatre, I'll explain everything later," Trowa said, getting up and leading the petite blonde away from the site.

"But…."

"Later. Right now we're just trying to keep him calm until the ambulance gets here and we can get him to the hospital."

Quatre felt the horror and shame that Trowa was feeling. Somehow he had something to do with Duo's condition and he felt ashamed and horrified by what he had done. Quatre gave his best friend an encouraging smile and wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist.

Duo lay on the ground and a wave of jealousy washed over him at the sight of the two young men holding each other. No one had ever held him like that. The only time that he ever got held was after a date had gotten what he wanted and the man lay sated on the bed, then and only then was his needs sometimes thought of. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes and he turned his face away from the sight. He gave into the growing blackness and slipped back into unconsciousness again.

* * * * * *

Consciousness returned to the braided boy when the emergency vehicle had completed about half the journey to the hospital. The tank-like suspension of the ambulance left much to be desired in the way of comfort. Duo could feel every pothole and jolt the tires hit and with every bump, lump and thud of the undercarriage he got a strong reminder of why he lay strapped to the board with his head in blocks and a cervical collar on. Not that he needed all the stuff, but since he had been unresponsive, the paramedics thought that it would be for the best if they made sure that there weren't any other unseen injuries hiding under the myriad of bruises that decorated poor Duo's skin. The only problem with their plan is that the patient couldn't breathe very well in a prone position and his body threatened to go into respiratory arrest before they arrived at the hospital. The thick blood clogged his air passage and he kept the emergency team busy suctioning out the stuff.

His time in the emergency room stayed dream-like in his mind. It was a series of shouting voices, endless pain, pokes, prods and jabs. The doctor ordered a variety of tubes to be inserted into Duo's body. The incessant burn of the tube that had been put in the collapsed lung fortunately overshadowed the indignity of the catheter. While the throbbing seemed eternal, at least his breathing became easier and the temporary airway that the paramedics put in place could be taken out of his nose.

The nurse in charge of his case got him as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances, and stepped out to see about a room in the intensive care unit for him. The frantic noise of the past half hour or more slipped into the endless drone of the heart monitor beeping with every heartbeat and the distant sounds of people talking, phones ringing and the occasional overhead page. The unusual lullaby had him drifting, of course the drugs that had been given for pain and anxiety helped with the detached feelings.

* * * * * *

Trowa watched from the sidelines with Quatre next to him as the paramedics rushed over and began helping Ms Po with the injured Duo. A few, silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he surveyed the outcome of his loss of temper. He had no right to harm the other boy and there was really no reason for his actions either. Quatre had explained everything that happened that morning in the woods and while he didn't like it, his little one should have handled the situation. But the frustration of being avoided for days on end caught up with him and when the opportunity arose he took full advantage of it.

It never occurred to him to wonder where all of the bruises and other injuries that Duo sported this week came from. Trowa knew – in a general way – where they had come from, but he didn't understand why someone with Duo's looks, brains and personality sold his body. Maybe Quatre had it right and there was more going on then they could see. Sometimes seeing things from the outside didn't make the view any clearer.

The wet, wheezy sound of Duo's breathing worried the banged boy and he hugged the petite blonde a little tighter in his arms. The feel of Quatre's body molding to his almost drew his mind away from the whole set of circumstances … almost. As the ambulance pulled away, lights flashing, Trowa let go of Quatre turned on his heel and broke into a loose-limbed lope toward the student parking lot and his car. He'd follow the emergency vehicle to the hospital and when he could, talk to Duo about the day's happenings. And when he finished discussing the whole thing, he'd turn himself into the local police for assault and battery. It would be the least that he could do.

Quatre followed behind the disturbed Trowa, barely keeping up with the longer legs of the tall boy. Something had happened and he intended to find out exactly what it was. He reached Trowa's car as the banged boy slipped behind the wheel. The tiny blonde stood beside the passenger's side door, waiting for the other boy to notice him and unlock the door.

Trowa looked up, the feeling of someone standing next to the car breaking into the cloud of guilt that surrounded him. Seeing Quatre standing there brought a small, sad smile to his lips. He reached across the seat and unlocked the door, letting his little one in. He started the car and maneuvered it out of the student parking lot.

Quatre allowed Trowa to get the vehicle out on the main drag before he looked at his secret crush. He turned toward the driver and cocked his head.

"Want to tell me what happened on the field, Trowa?"

"I did something that I'm not too proud of," Trowa responded, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

"And that would be?"

"I was given the chance to get my revenge on Maxwell for his treatment of you the other day and took advantage of the situation. I tackled him instead of just going for his flags. And after I hit him, he screamed and coughed up a bunch of foamy blood." He turned his head, slightly, and gave Quatre a horrified look. "I didn't mean to really hurt him. I think I might have broken at least one rib and drove it into his lung."

"Oh, Trowa!" Quatre gasped. "Why? Didn't I tell you that I would handle things?"

"Yes, but I was tired of waiting for things to happen."

"He might not trust either of us again, you do realize that don't you?"

Trowa sighed and nodded his head. He couldn't help feeling slightly vindicated but the realization that he may have ruined any chance for them to help the braided boy weighed heavily on him. That and the fact he had disappointed Quatre had him looking into the mirror to see the worm that he had become.

"We really need to keep you away from Heero, Trowa!" Quatre giggled. "You're beginning to act more and more like him. Trounce first - question your motives second. What a mess you've made."

"Tell me about it. How do I make the needed repairs? What do I say to him the next time I see him?" Trowa glanced out of the corner of one eye at Quatre.

"Let me think," Quatre said, staring off into space. "There's got to be a reason why he does the things he does. It's got something to do with the family that he's living with. Either his pimp is threatening them or…no, that couldn't be."

"Quatre?"

"I was just thinking that Mr. Reed could be the one selling Duo's body, but it just doesn't fit the pattern. There's something going on in that family and we're going to need to find out what if we're going to help Duo." He sighed, remembering what had happened, both times in the woods. "I don't think I'll be going into the woods anytime soon. Too many things have gone on in there. Do you think that some people are just lucky when it comes to life?"

Trowa pondered Quatre's question, mulling over the idea and carefully choosing his words. "I think we make our own luck by the choices that we make. Yes, we can't pick our families, but we can do the best we can for them."

"And what if our families do things that could harm us or put our lives in danger?"

"Then there will come a point where we must choose what's right for ourselves and leave the family to fend for themselves," Trowa stated bluntly.

Quatre smiled at the green-eyed boy. Trowa's speech had startled the petite blonde. It was the longest string of words the young man had ever put together. It gave the blonde warm fuzzies to think they could have such a serious discussion.

"And," teased Trowa. "I'm nothing like Yuy."

Quatre burst into a fresh round of giggles. He reached out and took the other boy's hand in his. Trowa's larger hand engulfed his smaller, more delicate one. The electric tingle that sparked between their entangled fingers had them sitting in contented silence all the way to the hospital.

* * * * * *

Twenty-year-old Treize Khushrenada couldn't believe his luck. He had come to the high school to do an exposé on one of the promising senior football players for the Mount Morey University newspaper. The editor of the paper and he had a falling out his freshman year and he usually ended up with the crap assignments. But fate –once again- assisted her favorite son and a juicy story dropped right into his hands.

The battered, delicate-looking boy had caught his attention. The bruised elfin-featured kid had two things that captured the ginger-haired reporter –big amethyst eyes that shone dully from the myriad of contusions and that mass of chestnut hair.

Treize could imagine what it would be like to have that hair scattered over his naked chest. He had very specific tastes in his lovers; they had to have long hair and he loved them young. That abused boy fit both requirements. The braided one would be an easy mark, just offer him a way out of his current situation and he would be more than willing to do whatever Treize asked of him. None of his lovers ever lasted very long…. the longest being for three months.

A mystery lingered around the injured boy and Treize had every intention of finding out what exactly what had caused the bruises and other injuries on the poor little thing. He had enough to write the article on the future football star, now for some real reporting. One of the boys stood out from the rest. Mitch Revelson had played quarterback on the play before kid had been smashed to the turf. He knew Mitch through the young man's older brother, David; he and Treize were in the same fraternity.

"Mitch," he called out in his cultured voice.

"Treize?" the young man said, seeing who was calling for him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You know me, I'm not one to miss any games that you play in."

"Yeah, right. So, what are you really doing here?"

"I'm representing the Mount Morey Gazette and doing an exclusive on one of the players from your class."

"That makes sense, I think." He stared at the other man. "What can I do for you?"

"What do you know about the boy that was rushed to the hospital?"

"Not too much. Although, I've heard that he can be bought for the right price."

"Are you telling me that he's a whore?" Treize asked, incredulously. He couldn't believe his luck. First the little lovely and now finding out that he could be had for a price. Fate truly did love him. He would be able to do an entire piece on teenaged prostitution with a true prostitute to answer all his questions. A major newspaper might even pick this up and he could win a Pulitzer for his work. He smiled at Mitch and held out a twenty-dollar bill.

"Tell me how or who to get in touch with to hire him for a night."


	5. Chapter 5

**EVERYONE'S A VICTIM**

Duo drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes the pain would overwhelm the medication that he had been given to stop it and he would flounder into full consciousness. During those short periods of awareness, he worried about what his father would say or do to him for this fiasco. It wasn't his fault that Barton had lost his temper and creamed him during the game.

The fourth time he struggled awake, Owen was there, sitting in a chair next to the bed. His handsome features were set in a look of disgust and barely contained rage. Duo tried to draw back from him, fear evident on his face.

"I see that you're awake," Owen growled at him, getting to his feet and coming over to the bed.

"Yes, sir," Duo squeaked his voice and body trembling with ill-concealed fear.

"I can't believe that you're any relation to me. One little hit and you're running up medical bills. You are a total waste of money and if I didn't need you for your talents, I wouldn't keep you around." He gave Duo a malicious grin. "As a matter of fact, Roger has offered me fifteen hundred dollars for you. And after today, I'm really considering it."

"I didn't—"

"You didn't what? Didn't think about how this would affect the family? Didn't care about what would happen to your brother and me if certain information got out?" He raised his hand and brought it down against the boy's cheek.

Duo whimpered when his father's broad hand smacked his face. The movement set off a series of sharp pains throughout his whole body. One, crystalline tear ran into the chestnut hair at his temple. He knew better than to cry out, that would only lead to more pain when he got home. No one would dare go against his father. There would be no prince on a white horse to come to his rescue. Duo understood at that point that there would come a day when he ceased to be useful and then he would disappear. He could almost hear Owen telling the people at work that his naughty foster son had gotten fed up with the life he was leading and had run away from home.

"I don't see what Roger sees in you," Owen sneered. "You're fat, ugly and couldn't carry on an intelligent conversation if you tried. As a matter of fact, I don't know what any of your Johns see in you. And I can see why you don't have any friends; no one would want to be friends with a worthless little bitch whore like you. You disgust me." He glared down at Duo with a look that most people reserve for what they step in on the lawn. "Don't expect to see me again until you're ready to leave. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Duo murmured, barely able to keep the tears that threatened from falling. "I'll have the hospital call you when I'm ready to be discharged."

"Good, you do that." Owen turned on his heel and strode out of the room. His hurried footsteps carried him past the family waiting room where two of Duo's classmates waited for permission to see him. The smaller of the two sat, riveted to his seat, both hands clutching his shirt above his heart with silent tears running down his face.

* * * * * *

Quatre and Trowa had gotten to the hospital while Duo was still in the emergency room, but because they weren't related to the patient, they were informed that they would have to wait until Mr. Reid got there before they could see the braided boy. After he had been transferred to the intensive care unit, they were shown to the family room to wait until Duo's father made his appearance. The smallish room had four large recliners, a table with four chairs, a microwave and a coffeemaker all crammed into it. Against the back wall was a bathroom with a sink, toilet and shower. A TV hung from the ceiling and at the moment one of the many soap operas played on the screen.

"Do you think that Mr. Reid will be here soon?" Trowa asked Quatre.

"Don't know. He seems to be quite attentive to Duo – or at least from what I've seen." Quatre tapped his forefinger against his lip. "But there are a lot of contradictions that I don't understand. For one, why the hell is the man allowing Duo to sleep around in the first place? Shouldn't he have more control over him? And two, why was Duo in school today with his injuries? Wouldn't someone who truly cared for him want him to be at home where he'd have time to recuperate?" Quatre gave his crush a sad smile. "I've gotten some interesting feelings from Duo in the few times that I've met him. There's a lot of self-loathing and some anger issues that I don't understand. I guess that we'll just have to wait to talk to Duo. I'm not sure that I would believe anything that …." Quatre seized his shirt with both hands and gave a small, keening cry. "Oh god it hurts."

"Quatre?" Trowa asked, getting out of his seat and coming towards the petite blonde. "What is it?"

"It's Duo," the petite blonde gasped, tears flooding down his cheeks. "He's wishing that he could die and doesn't care what happens to him." He threw himself against Trowa's chest - knowing, at a subconscious level, that there would be comfort and strength in the circle of his arms. "Oh God, Trowa! He's ready to kill himself. There's so much pain. Something's happened. We're going in to see him and I don't care if the nurses call security, I'm not leaving him alone when he's like this." A small sob escaped Quatre's throat. He drew himself up, put his emotions under a tight lock and wiped the tears off his face. He gave Trowa a weak smile. "I don't want him to see my tears. It's time someone was strong for him."

Trowa gave the little blonde a smile, took his smaller hand in his and then ushered him out of the room. Hand in hand they entered the foreboding dusk in the ICU. The only sounds reaching their ears came from the various machines used in the unit. The constant hiss and click of the respirators, the deep bong of an alarming heart monitor and the hushed voices of staff, visitors and patients. A ringing phone blared above the other sounds, startling Quatre as they approached the nurse's desk.

A woman dressed in street clothes answered the phone and paged for one of the nurses – or so Quatre assumed. She set the phone back on the cradle and turned her attention to the advancing young men.

"Can I help you?" she asked as they came up to the desk.

"Yes, I'm Quatre Winner and this is Trowa Barton," Quatre said, motioning with his free hand. "We're here to see Duo Maxwell, if that's at all possible. We've been waiting for his foster father to come up and someone from the emergency department said that they would let Mr. Reid know that we're here."

"Yes, he was informed of your presence and said that he would be greatly honored if you would visit Duo. Unfortunately, Mr. Reid was called away on business and he had to leave. If you'd like, Duo is in room seven. Just go around the corner and it's the last door on the right."

"Thank you so very much," Quatre said, giving the woman one of his patented, heart-melting smiles.

"You're quite welcome," she said, turning her attention back to her work.

They quickly rounded the corner and followed the directions to Duo's room. They could see the braided boy through the large observation window that allowed the nurses to see how each patient was faring without entering the room.

Duo lay on his side, cradling his braid like a security blanket. He nervously picked at the rubber band on the end. A thirteen-inch television sat on the end of a crane-like arm; its black screen reflecting everything on the bed. The boy almost swam in the bedclothes, a slight figure in a sea of white linens. And except for his hair and the black circles under his eyes, Duo could have been a corpse. Quatre steeled himself before knocking on the doorframe and walking in.

* * * * *

Duo closed his eyes, after his father left. He unconsciously picked at the end of his braid, slowly shredding the ends below the ponytail holder. The injury on the football field had left him exhausted and sore and Owen's visit had taken any desire he might have had to survive and ground it under the man's unrelenting black loafer. Why couldn't he ever do anything right? Why did he always seem to do the wrong thing at the wrong time? No wonder Owen hated the sight of him – he was a worthless piece of shit and not important enough to waste your time on.

When door swung in, he opened his eyes and looked at the figures that entered his room. Quatre gave him a nervous smile, his fear of Duo's reaction written plainly on his honest and friendly face. And Trowa's look of chagrin startled the braided boy.

"Hey, guys," Duo asked, a false brightness coming over his face and voice. "What brings you here?"

"Well," Quatre answered, "we wanted to make sure that you were all right. And Trowa has something that he'd like to say to you. As soon as he can find the right words, that is. But he's been hanging around with Heero too much and you've seen what has happened to his personality. It went right down the tubes. I just don't know what we're going to do with him. Any suggestions?"

"Well, you could give him away to the gypsies. My mother used to always threaten me with that one. But I told her that they wouldn't want me…. too wild, y'know?"

"Hmm. Well, that is one possibility. Any other ideas?"

"Not off the top of my head. I'll let you know if anything comes to mind." Duo gave him a lop-sided grin.

"Duo," Trowa said, moving over to the bed. "I'm very sorry about what happened today. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" He took Duo's free hand and held it very gently. "There were things going on that made me frustrated and I had no right to take it out on you. I promise from now on to keep my temper under control."

"Hey, Trow, you don't need to apologize to me."

"Actually, Duo, I do. There was no reason for me to take out my ill temper on you. As Quatre pointed out, I've been spending too much time with Heero and his personality has started to rub off."

"Look, Trow, I forgive ya. But there really isn't any need to explain to me about what happened. I'm used to getting a little banged up every now and again." He gave both young men a sad, half grin. "So, what else do you have planned for today? Gonna do anythin' excitin'?"

"Not that I know of. Probably just head home and do homework," Trowa said, sitting in the chair next to the bed.

"We probably shouldn't stay too long," Quatre piped up. "I don't think that the nurses would want us to tire you out. I promise that we'll be back tomorrow and I'll pick up any schoolwork that needs your immediate attention, okay?"

"Thanks, Kitty-cat-cat-Quatre. And thanks for coming to see me," Duo responded looking up at the petite blonde. "Would you mind terribly if I spoke to Trowa alone for a few minutes?"

"No, I'll be waiting just outside the doorway for him." Quatre smiled and slipped out of the room.

Trowa cocked his head to one side and looked at the frail being in the bed. "What's so important that you have to talk to me alone about it?"

"Do you have any idea how to screw around with another man?" Duo asked, looking down at his long slender fingers.

The rooster-banged boy turned a brilliant shade of crimson. "Ah…no" he finally managed to spit out, after opening and closing his mouth several times. "Why?"

"I can teach you the basics. You'll have to practice, but with someone that really cares about you and that you care about, it can be something wonderful. Are you willing to listen to me?"

"You'll help me?"

"Yeah, it's the least I can do for what happened between me and Cat. You two deserve to be happy." Duo moved slightly, trying to get more comfortable and began to careful explain the things that he had learned through trial and error. Trowa reached into one of his jeans' pockets and withdrew a small notebook and pen. With each revelation he wrote down notes.

Quatre stood, watching the two young men through the window in the hallway. Some of the things that Duo was saying had Trowa blushing and stimulated Quatre's curiosity. He was so intent on the tableau going on in the room that he didn't notice a strange man coming up behind him until his breath blew against Quatre's ear.

"Hello, pretty one," a gravelly voice said. "What are you doing waiting in the hall?"

The little blonde whirled around and then shrank back from the darkly handsome figure standing there holding a bouquet of balloons. Malevolence rolled off the man in almost overpowering waves and Quatre nearly panicked when he felt the smooth, coolness of the glass against his back.

"Oh dear," the man said, giving the petite blonde a wicked smile. "Aren't we a bit jumpy?"

Quatre could feel both Duo's and Trowa's eyes watching him through the protective barrier of the glass. He moved toward the dubious safety of the room where his boyfriend and their newest friend were. The feelings coming off the man standing in front of him nearly made the petite blonde gag. Lust, desire, a need to see things suffer and an overwhelming egomania rolled off the man. For a brief second, Quatre could see into the very heart of the beast and what he saw there left him open and exposed to the evil that dwelled in the very core of the stranger. The wicked smile on the man's face widened to an open leer. The sound of someone scrambling for the door brought a wave of relief to the cornered young man. The feel of Trowa's arm slipping around his shoulders produced a sigh of relief from the little blonde.

"Oh. I see," the man said, giving the pair a lustful smile. "An unbroken mare and his virgin stallion. Why don't you come with me, pretty, and I'll teach you the way of things. Then you can come back and show your lover what you like and how you like it. Sound like a plan?"

"Leave them the hell alone!" Duo screamed out the door, trying to untangle the tubes tying him to the bed, in order to come to his new friends' rescue. The man turned his attention from the pair in front of him to the struggling boy in the room.

"He can't stand the thought of sharing me with anyone else," the man said, his lips curling into an empty smile. "I'll be right there, Sweetling. Just get your panties out of a knot." He inclined his head to the young men standing between him and the room. "If you'll excuse me, there are a few things that need taking care of."

"Sure," Trowa answered. "We were just coming up to see Duo. I guess that the more the merrier, right?" He gave the man a forceful glare. "I don't think that you want us to have to call for one of the nurses or maybe the police? I mean it's not like you've got anything to hide, right?"

The man gave the rooster-banged boy a nasty glare and then he smiled again. "I didn't realize that Duo had any friends other than me, of course. I'm so glad that he has finally started to make some friends his own age. Don't you agree?"

"Of course," Quatre said, a smile, cold smile gracing his lips. "I forgot my manners, my name is Quatre Raberba Winner and this is Trowa Barton. We go to school with Duo and came over here to see how he was doing. Who are you and what brings you over to see our friend?"

"You're Winner's youngest, huh?" the man asked, his look becoming contemplative. "I'm Roger Muscat. You're father and I do business together and I know Duo through his foster father." Quatre didn't miss the scorn in the man's voice.

"Really? You and my father have a business relationship? Maybe I need to discuss his choice of associates with him. Unlike some people's, my father tends to listen to his children's opinion of those we meet. There's something very not right with you and I plan have a long talk with him about you." Quatre drew himself to his full height (which would have worked better if he were a few inches taller).

"Listen, pretty, stay out of things that don't concern you," Roger sneered at him. "Those who interfere with my plans tend not to stay in good health for long." He grabbed Quatre's chin in a tight grip, causing the petite blonde's eyes to widen in shock. "Do you understand what I'm saying, pretty?"

"I think you've made yourself quite clear," Quatre shot back, pulling his chin free of the hard grasp and staggering into Trowa as he lost his balance.

"Yo, Kitty-cat!" Duo's voice broke through the stalemate in the hallway. "Can you and Trow come in here?"

"Sure, Duo. Just give us a few minutes to get rid of this man."

"Quatre, just leave him. I'm sure that he's only here to see me because he knows Mr. Reid," Duo begged, his voice heavy with fear and pain.

"All right, Duo." Quatre said, poking his head into the room. "We'll stay until he leaves."

"You don't have to. As a matter of fact, it might be better if you and Trow just left now." He looked out the window to the hallway, at the man standing there giving him an evil stare. "I'll be all right. Besides, you need to get home and get your homework done for tomorrow." Quatre gave the longhaired boy a nervous look. "Don't worry, he won't try anything here, 'kay?"

"Are you sure," Quatre asked, taking one icy hand in his.

"Yeah, he's not going to do anything where there maybe witnesses. So, why don't you and that handsome hunk that's attached himself to you head out and do the things that you need to. Unlike me, you have school tomorrow and I don't think spending the evening here is a good excuse for not getting your stuff done for your classes. Please, don't give the teachers something more to hate me for." Duo gave the two boys a weak smile. "If you find the time, maybe you can come back up in a day or two." The look that he gave Quatre and Trowa was pathetically hopeful. The blonde decided right then to come up and visit this boy, who had turned his world upside-down.

"We'll bring your homework up and help you to stay up with your classes!" Quatre exclaimed. "I'm sure that we can do it. And that way you don't have to worry about falling behind."

"You'd do that?" Duo asked, his violet eyes filling up with tears.

"We would more that willing to," Trowa answered. "I think it's the least I can do for loosing my temper in the first place." He pulled Quatre closer and took Duo's other hand. A single, crystalline tear ran down the injured boy's face. Trowa gave the cool hand a quick squeeze and then released it. "I'll have to agree with you in one way. It's time that we headed home. Quatre's dad tends to worry if he's too late. We'll see you right after school tomorrow. Sleep well, Duo. And don't let that jackass stay too long. Okay?"

"Yeah," came the faint answer. "See you guys tomorrow."

Quatre carefully let go of the hand that he held. He gave Duo a big grin, leaned down and gave the boy in the bed a hug. Duo tried to pull away from the gentle embrace, his eyes growing huge in shock.

"We'll see you right after school. So be ready for us." Quatre flashed Duo a cheerful grin. "And if you're a very good boy for the nurses tonight, I'll even bring you a treat."

"I don't think I have any choice but to be good," Duo responded. "They're probably not going to let me go too far with that thing stuck in my side." He gestured to the rubber tube attached to his left side with what looked like a mountain of tape.

"Okay. Then you lay here and just think of getting better and we'll see you in the afternoon." The two boys separated and walked out of the room. Roger nearly knocked them down entering the room, holding the balloons in front of him. Quatre glared at his back, feeling like they were abandoning the young man to the not so tender mercies of the scoundrel with the gifts. He gave Trowa a weak smile.

"Don't worry about it," the banged boy said. "Duo knows enough about this guy and we're just going to have to trust his judgment."

"Duo's terrified of that…. person! I don't feel right just walking out. I'm pretty sure that guy's one of the people that he…ah…um…. you know."

"Yeah, I got that feeling too. But we can't do anything if he doesn't want our help. We'll just have to hope that Duo knows him well enough to be safe."

"I know. But that doesn't mean that I have to like it!"

"Agreed." The two young men walked out of the ICU and headed out to the parking lot. Somehow during the journey, Quatre's hand ended up in Trowa's bigger one. The electric jolts of flesh on flesh made them both tremble, slightly.

Duo watched Roger like he would watch a rattlesnake. His whole body trembled with fear at the cold, malicious grin the older man gave him. He knew that when he finally got out of the hospital, Roger would make him pay for his act of near defiance.

"We think that we can order around our betters now, do we?" Roger asked his face flushed from the effort of keeping his anger in check while the other boys were there. "Was anyone speaking to you, Bitch? Haven't you learned to keep your mouth shut in the presence of you betters, you worthless piece of shit?"

"No, Sir. It didn't mean to correct you. But it thought that things would work much better for You if You didn't try to do anything to Mr. Winner's youngest child; not only his youngest, but also his favorite child, Sir."

"So, you were looking out for my best interests, hm? I don't believe it!" He reached out and grabbed the slender shoulders, ignoring Duo's cry of pain. The heart monitor, set well above the bed, began to alarm as the boy's heart started racing. The rapid pulse was the only thing that gave his terror away.

Duo caught a glimpse of hot pink out of the corner of one eye and he turned his head toward the bright color. One of the nurses stood looking into the room and talking on either a walkie-talkie or a cell phone. Over the noise of the apparatus, the boy could hear the operator.

"Attention all personnel … Code Man … ICU … Room 116," the woman's voice stated calmly and succinctly. "Attention all personnel … Code Man … ICU … Room 116. Attention all personnel … Code Man … ICU … Room 116." In less than a minute, the hallway just outside Duo's room became filled with security officers, male nursing staff and a few police officers (whom Duo found out later were there drinking coffee and eating doughnuts).

"Looks like our time will be cut short," Roger sneered at the slight figure in the bed. "I'll be back to see you when you're feeling better."

"Yeah," Duo dully said. "I didn't think I would get off so easily."

Roger gave him an evil grin and walked to the doorway, holding his hands up to show that he wasn't carrying any weapons.

Duo watched the man leave, feeling relieved to have gotten away with out any new bruises or injuries. He drew as deep of a breath as he could and burst into tears. He felt arms go around his shoulders and looked up at the woman who had introduced herself as Margery. She gave him a soft smile and gently held him close.

"That's it," she said, "let it all out."

"Please don't," Duo begged around the tears. "I'm not worth your time."


	6. Chapter 6

Well, folks. Here's the next chapter in the continuing saga! Hope that you like it. Reviews will get the next chapter up faster!

Okay, the legal stuff…Don't own and I'm so broke I can't afford to pay attention, so suing will get you nowhere.

And away we go….

**A NEVERENDING DREAM**

Duo sat in the back of a stretch limousine, one that Owen would have never ordered. Tonight marked the first time in almost two months that the braided boy had serviced clients and the man that ordered his presence was one he had never seen or heard of before … Treize Khushrenada. It seemed strange that his father had allowed him to see an unknown person without the proper background checks and other safety precautions that he had taken in the past. But then, the old man had been very lax in his treatment of Duo during his recovery.

Duo tugged at the sleeves of the new dove-grey, silk shirt that had arrived with the amethyst-colored, silk velvet suit, trying to hide the bruises that stained his wrists black. Since the accident, Owen had begun to take out his frustrations on his youngest son. The sexual abuse Duo had dealt with from the time of his mother's death, but the repeated acts of BD/SM that his father forced him into left him feeling wrung out and empty.

The two weeks he spent in the hospital were some of the best he had lived through since before he started taking care of his terminally ill mother. Trowa and Quatre came everyday after school and brought him his homework assignments, picked up the work that he had finished while they were in class and then one or the other of them would order something from a choice of four restaurants that would deliver to the hospital (anything would be better than the food from the vomiteria – ah cafeteria). And even after he got home they showed up to bring him his schoolwork and brighten his day. OJ steered clear of Quatre, especially with the tiny blonde having his uni-banged protector. Now, however, Duo tried to avoid them. He didn't want to contaminate them with his filthy soul.

It had been fun to watch the two boys making their stumbling way towards being a couple. Duo felt privileged to see their pure love. It left warm, fuzzy feelings in a heart that he thought died and was buried with his mother. But, now that he was back doing the things that Owen required of him, there wouldn't be time in his life for friendship. Besides, friends were a luxury that whores could do without.

A lump formed between his pecs and tears sprang up from their well at the thought of losing the first people, in a long time, who seemed to care for him. He carefully brushed the crystalline droplets off his cheeks, being cautious not to wipe off any of his fastidiously applied makeup. It wouldn't do to show up at the restaurant with a mascara-streaked face. He smoothed back his hair, the client asked that his hair be mostly down, so he had pulled the front back into a slender braid that lay against the remainder of his hair. And the rest of it poured loose down across the deep purplish-blue of the jacket. Part of him hated that this person could order him to share his hair with a total stranger, but there wasn't any use begging Owen for changes.

The long, sleek car pulled up under the canopy of the best restaurant in town. A French chef had opened it right after Duo and his family moved the Winner-supported town. The cuisine was said to be divine and customers waited months to get one of the poorer tables near the kitchen. The braided boy didn't know what to expect from his appointment.

Duo straightened his cuffs and collar once again and waited for the silent driver to open the door of the car. He slid across the sleek leather seat and stood up. The flowing cut to the suit coat gave the suggestion of tails and the heavyweight fabric hung just right off his shoulders. The shirt under the jacket had enough frills on it to be considered a woman's, but it fit his slender body to a tee. The only complaint he could make of the garments is that the pants were sufficiently tight enough to split his ass cheeks and the seam rubbed against his hidden pucker, stimulating the nerve-rich flesh. It felt like someone was walking behind him, rubbing a finger over that area and arousing him.

_If he says anything corny like is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, _Duo thought. _I'll strangle him. Going to jail would be better than dealing with some old fart that tells bad jokes and expects me to laugh at them._

He sighed as the doorman opened the door for him. The dark, quiet ambiance helped to calm his overwrought emotions. He wandered up to the maitre d', trying to delay the inevitable for a few more moments, and gave the stuffy-looking man a sweet, sultry smile.

"May I help you?" the man asked, looking down his rodent-sharp nose at Duo.

"I'm meeting Mr. Khushrenada. Would you please tell him that Duo's here?"

"Of course. If you will wait over there for a few moments," the maitre d' said, pointing to one side of the lobby.

"Yeah. And don't worry, I won't run off with the silver."

The extremely formal man glared at him and stalked away; the way he walked made Duo think about what could be shoved up and how far it had been placed up the man's ass. He either needed to have something removed or to get laid. Even Owen wasn't that stuck up. But what did he know? He was just a prostitute or, as one man had called him, a very expensive sperm receptacle.

Duo waited in the shadowy lobby for the uptight man to return and escort him to his date for the evening. High classed, canned music grated on his ears and he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, nervously. New customers made him a little uneasy since his trip to the hospital, he decided. He never knew when Roger would show up or what he would do to him after he got the man thrown out of his hospital room. In all actuality, it wasn't him that caused the problem, but Quatre. He certainly couldn't explain to the petite blonde the trouble he had set Duo up for. Or what would happen to him when the sadistic man returned to town.

The tightly-wound head waiter walked up to him, after looking around the dim lobby. He straightened his glasses and motioned for the braided boy to follow him into the depths of the restaurant. He strode away without making sure that his _guest_ could keep up with him. He led Duo to a long spiral staircase that swept up over the heads of the less fortunate diners. The tasteful scarlet carpet covered the stairs, making them safe. Marble gleamed along the edge of the stairway that wasn't covered by the inches thick carpeting.

The fragrant smells that greeted Duo's nose started his stomach rumbling. He had been too nervous to eat anything before coming, besides he planned on getting the best dinner he had ever had from this date. If the old man wanted to molest him, he would have to pay for it by buying the braided boy anything he wanted off the menu. Maybe they could order some champagne and Duo could be pleasantly blitzed when they returned to the apartment that Owen kept for entertaining. Blitzed sounded very nice right about now.

They climbed to the very top of the restaurant where there were private dining rooms. The maitre d' walked down the hallway with his stiff-legged stride until he reached the proper room. Opening the door, he motioned for the braided boy to enter.

Duo stepped around the man, stopped and patted him on the shoulder. "I think maybe you need to get your wife, boyfriend, girlfriend or the dog to give you a good lay," he quipped, smiling cockily up as an insulted rage swept over the man's face. "And if you tell me that you got some last night, then I think you'd better hire a professional, 'cause your stress relief ain't workin'." Duo dodged the door as it slammed shut, nearly catching his hand in it.

"Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance," a smooth tenor spoke. Duo jumped against the door and whirled around to face his date for the evening.

"Sorry," he smiled at the ginger-haired man seated at the table. "I just thought that he might need some advice, seeing as he's stiff as a board. It's either that he's not getting' any or he's got a huge dildo shoved someplace that it shouldn't be during work hours." He looked the handsome man over. Everything about him screamed "TO THE MANOR" born. His suit jacket lay over one of the spare chairs and the crisply ironed shirt clung to his torso like a second skin. The neatly pressed slacks and highly polished shoes spoke of a valet or butler who helped the man dress.

Duo unconsciously gnawed on one of his thumbnails as he studied the figure sitting in front of him. The man was a lot younger than he thought he would be. And, unlike most of his younger clients, didn't need any help in the looks department. As a matter of fact, he was drop-dead gorgeous; that, in and of itself, made him more than a little nervous.

"You're not like my usual dates," he said, leaning, with a casualness that he didn't feel, against the door.

"Does that really bother you?"

"Nah, not really. I'm just wondering why someone like you needs to hire a professional." A horrifying thought crossed his mind. "Oh, FUCK!" he swore under his breath. "You're a cop. That's the only reason I can think of for somebody like you needing to hire a whore." He gave Treize a look of resignation. "If you're going to arrest me, just do and get it over with."

Treize rose to his feet, walked over to the drooping boy and lifted his face up. Cherry-colored lips beckoned and the ginger-haired man wasn't one to miss any chances to get what he wanted. He pulled the fragile form against him and began to plunder the soft, sweet mouth. He drew one of Duo's legs over his hip and ground their groins together.

"I'm not a police officer," he said, breaking the kiss. "And as to my reason for hiring you, I saw you and just had to have at least one night with you. You're such a delightful little piece." He led the boy over to the table, sat him in one of the chairs and poured him a glass of champagne from the bottle that had been standing open to breathe while he waited for his companion to arrive. "Here, try some of this, it will sooth your nerves. I hope you like the year I've chosen."

Duo pulled his scattered wits together; for some reason this date was different from the others he'd had. "I've never tried it before."

"Oh, a virgin," the rich tenor dropped into the lower register, causing duck bumps to form on Duo's arms. "I love initiating youngsters into the adult world." He leaned over and sucked on the braided boy's earlobe, swirling his tongue into the delicate shell of his ear.

The younger man shivered in response to the seduction. He sat on his hands to keep from pulling the man down and showing him how much of a child he wasn't. His body ached in response to everything that was being done to it. "Please," he whimpered, "stop. If you keep this up, I'm not gonna want to eat. Unless it's you I'm devouring."

"I think I'll stop," Treize said, pulling away from the boy. "I wouldn't want the excellent meal I've ordered to go to waste. And you're going to need all the stamina that you've got; I intend to leave you totally wrung out and begging for more." He gave Duo a scorching smile. "I want you to know that you've been loved and loved well. So, we'll settle in and get to know each other better."

Duo shook his head to clear it. He looked over at the other man and cocked his head. "You do realize that I'm a sure thing, right?" he asked. "I mean the whole seduction thing is nice, but you don't need to go all out to get what you want. You've already paid for my services."

"Do you mean that no one has ever tried to seduce you?"

"Ah, no. Why should they? I mean, they pay for what they want before I even meet them and most of them don't want the wife/girlfriend/or whatever to find out that they're such perverts that they need to screw a fifteen-year-old boy to get off sometimes. Hell, half the guys I sleep with want me to call them 'Daddy'. Do you know how perverted that is? The other half just want a good, little BD/SM slut, who calls them master and screams at the right time. The majority of the time, I think that they don't even realize that they're not doin' it with a blowup doll."

"What about the man that injured you a few months ago?" Treize asked, resting his chin in his palm and waiting patiently for a response.

"Let's not talk about him, 'kay? He's bad news and if I say anything about him, he'll probably appear with the next bout of foul weather."

"Really? Then why to you go to him?"

"Because I don't have any choice, 'kay. I have to do what my pimp tells me or I'll be as good as dead." He unconsciously rubbed his bruised and torn wrists trying to relieve the dull ache that sprang up in his chest.

"I'm sorry," Treize said, softly. "I didn't mean to stir up any bad memories. Why don't we have some of this excellent wine and forget all about our problems." He handed Duo the glass he had poured for him, before they got distracted by each other.

Duo took a careful sip of the wine and grimaced at the sour taste. He couldn't see how anyone would willingly drink the stuff; it tasted similar to the vinegar that OJ made him drink when they were children. Well, maybe not that bad, but close. The alcohol rushed to his brain and the second mouthful tasted better. As a matter of fact, as he got toward the bottom of the glass, be began liking the stuff. The swaying of the room he could do without, though. He giggled and crawled over the table to sit in Treize's lap.

The look on the ginger-haired man's face was priceless; his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline and his eyes opened very wide. Duo ground their groins together, relishing the small taste of power he had over the other man. The hardness that formed under his enthusiastic body made him groan with desire. He threaded his fingers into the other man's copper locks, pulled his head up and began devouring Treize's lips. His eagerness worked as an encouragement and the older man grabbed his slender hips and held them still as he pushed against Duo's groin.

A polite knock broke off their make out session. Duo blushed and carefully moved back to his seat. A silent waiter brought the hors d'oeuvres in and arranged them tastefully on the table. He nodded at the two men and left as quietly as he had entered.

Duo looked at the unusual assortment of food. There was some kind of mushrooms with breadcrumbs and something black and what looked like parsley and butter on them. The other tray contained mussels, still in the half shell. Neither of the foods looked all that appetizing.

"Sorry to sound stupid," Duo said, in a chagrinned voice. "But what the hell is this stuff?"

"If you've never had them, Sweetling, how can you sound stupid?" Treize answered. "Why don't you come over here and I'll feed you? As to what they are, the first tray is escargot and the other oysters on the half shell. Both are considered a delicacy. And supposedly, the oysters are an aphrodisiac. I wondered if we were going to need them, but I don't think that will be a problem." He looked the braided boy up and down. "I intend to teach you about what you've been missing. When I'm done with you, you won't want to go back to your old life."

"Yeah, right," Duo scoffed. He turned his attention to the food. His stomach began to growl at the pungent scent. He used the little fork provided on the plate and carefully picked up one of the escargots. He popped it into his mouth and began chewing. The taste of garlic and other herbs exploded over his taste buds. It tasted wonderful, but the texture left something to be desired. "Damn, these things taste good, but it's like eatin' an eraser."

"I don't think I've ever heard them called that before," Treize laughed. "Try one of these," he placed the shell of one oyster against Duo's lips. "Just don't chew. Allow the flesh to glide over your tongue and then gently squeeze with your teeth to loosen the juices."

Duo did as he was told and allowed the slimy, booger-like body slip into his mouth. The strong, slightly fishy taste made him wrinkle his nose in distaste and he grabbed for his glass of Champagne. "I think I like this stuff better than the sea booger you just fed me. That and the escargot will make a perfect meal."

Treize pulled the braided boy into his lap and started kissing him passionately. The low, greedy moans that escaped from Duo's mouth encouraged the older man to deepen the kiss and begin to run his hands over the eager young body in his lap. He slipped the velvet jacket off and unbuttoned the silk shirt. He pushed them over smooth, fresh shoulders, stopping when they reached the boy's elbows effectively trapping his arms to his sides. The ginger-haired man attacked the brown nubs that adorned his victim's chest, licking, sucking and nipping at the sensitive buds.

Duo writhed in his John's lap, trying to bring them closer together so that they could consummate the act that they were starting. His cock strained against the soft fabric and throbbed with need. The harder it became the slower Duo's brain operated. It took him almost a full minute to realize that the door to their dining room had been opened and a very shocked waiter stood holding a tray, looking very uncomfortable. His brown eyes were roaming for a safe place to stare, instead of devouring the tableaux in front of him.

"Take a picture," Duo said when his brain began functioning again, "it lasts longer."

"Duo, that wasn't very polite," Treize admonished, looking down at his partner.

"Well, it's the truth. He was starin' and droolin' all over our food."

"That he is, but we should ignore his total lack of manners," Treize said, peeling the teenager off his lap. "Please put the food on the table and excuse yourself, that is if you want a gratuity worth mentioning." He gave the server a glare that promised something worse than a poor tip in the man's future if he didn't do his job and make himself scarce in a hurry. The flustered man set the plates down and scurried out the door without a backward glance.

Duo stared at the colorfully arranged foods on the plate. "There's not a whole hellava lot on this," he said, wrinkling up his nose. "And what the hell is it?"

"Something very good," Treize answered, dragging the boy back onto his lap. "Dinner can wait, I intend on devouring you first."

Duo sighed and relaxed into the feelings. The room grew hazy and he had a hard time thinking of anything other than the rush of feelings as he was seduced. Things were looking up.


	7. Chapter 7

**REALITY SUCKS**

Duo hugged the purple key to his chest. Treize had given it to him on their second date and it meant more to him than anything that he'd ever owned. The ginger-haired man said that the shade of blue-violet matched the braided boy's eyes perfectly and since they were looking for a key, they might as well get that one.

Over the past month the older man had requested Duo's presence at least three times a week. How he could afford to pay the exorbitant price that Owen charged for one night on a student's budget, Duo didn't know. And truthfully, he didn't care. That the preceding weeks were the happiest, other than the ones while he was laid up, that had graced his life since his mother died.

Not only was the sex incredible, but Treize actually seemed to love and treasure him. That's why he decided to take a risk. If his father found out that he skipped out of his last class, he'd end up more shades of black and blue than he cared to think about. Hell, the old fart hadn't touched him since the first night he spent with his new sugar daddy, so no new bruises painted his skin.

He flagged down a cab and gave the driver Treize's address. He leaned back into the vinyl seat and ignored the faint scent of cigarettes and vomit. Desire curled in his belly and he shivered in response. When Treize got home he'd find Duo firmly ensconce in his bed wearing nothing but a shit-eating grin. He had just enough money in his pocket to cover the trip to the reporter's flat; he figured that they'd find a way to get him home before school the next day.

Duo sighed and closed his eyes. Anticipation got him hard and he intended to wear himself out with his new lover.

Treize moaned at the sight in front of him. Zechs' bare back lay beneath him, his tan hands gripping creamy skin and making a nice contrast between the two of them. He shoved his cock deeper into his lover, watching as he tossed his platinum locks when Treize hit his sweet spot. The ginger-haired man knew he couldn't last much longer and he sped up trying to bring his partner to a fulfilling culmination before his climax swept over him.

Zechs groaned loudly as he shot his load onto the bed and then cried out as the man behind him hit that hidden spot one last time before collapsing on the bed next to him. Neither of them had the energy to move for the moment and they just lay there basking in the afterglow.

After a few silent minutes Treize spoke, "It's so nice not to have to worry about whether or not I'm going to hurt you. You wouldn't believe what I've been through the last few weeks. That boy is so needy; I'm beginning to feel smothered."

"Well, it's your own fault, Treize," Zechs responded, turning to look his lover in the eye. "You're the one who chose to chase after an abused child with no thought to what it would mean to you." He rolled over Treize's body, so one thigh rested between his and he could easily rest his chin on the redhead's chest. "Quatre told me that he thinks Duo is being abused and you're not helping matters by leading him on. The poor little thing is one step from suicide and you are treating him like a little prince, only to get information from him." Zechs made a sour face.

"Well, I was hoping that he'd lead me to his pimp, but he's rather hesitant to give me the information that I need. As soon as I get that, I'm gone and he can fend for himself, once again."

"Asshole," Zechs murmured, biting down hard on the bared chest beneath him.

"That hurt!" Treize responded, flipping his lover onto his back and forcing himself between the blonde's legs.

A soft click from the living room echoed through the bedroom, followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut.

"Shit!" Treize spat, flinging himself out of bed and grabbing for the robe that hung on the bottom bedpost. "I hope that wasn't who I think it was."

"I'm sure it was Duo. You'd better go after him and see if you can act like a decent human being for once."

Duo had arrived at Treize's apartment and let himself into the flat. Instead of the silence he had thought to find, he heard very familiar noises, including the very intimate groan that Treize used when they were making love. He crept over to the bedroom door and stood there, in the shadows, watching the two men together. The way they acted after the deed was done, told him a lot about their relationship. And then he heard what his so-called lover really thought of him and he couldn't take it anymore. He gently set the key down and raced out of the residence, slamming the door behind him.

Heero marched up the stairs. Every Wednesday his parents insisted that he take piano lesson. Why he had no idea. While he was proficient enough, his performances always lacked something and he knew it. His parents might hope that he would become the world's first pianist/computer hacker, but he knew that they were wasting their money and his time. And to top things off, the only time that he could take his lessons is during his study period. Granted it was his last class of the day, but he usually used the time to finish what homework he had so that he could use his time at home more efficiently.

He trudged up the stairs to his teacher's apartment. The elderly lady lived on the sixth floor and Heero never used the elevator. At least by using the stairs he could get some exercise and not waste an entire afternoon.

A door slammed above him and the sound of someone running down the stairs was the only warning that he had before a lithe form slammed into him. His legs were buffeted by a knee-length braid of chestnut hair and the tattered, rusty black clothing looked vaguely familiar. The slight figure that crashed into him clung there, slim shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Heero recognized the boy in his arms. Duo Maxwell, if he wasn't mistaken. He could finally place the hair and clothes.

Softer footsteps followed the boy. When he heard them coming, Duo pulled free of Heero's grasp and fled down the rest of the stairs. The Japanese boy moved to block the way of whoever was chasing after Duo.

Treize flew down the staircase, trying to catch up to his Pulitzer Prize in the making. Granted the kid was a pain in the ass, but he was also the only way that the ginger-haired man could think of to make a name for himself. No longer would he be under the pall of Daniel Khushrenada's reputation. But only if he could get closer to the young man who had just run out of his life. He careened over the cement steps and nearly plowed into a dark-haired young man he had never seen before.

"Excuse me," he gasped, trying to move around the figure blocking his way. The boy moved back into his path. No matter which direction Treize tried, the stranger impeded his route. "Do you mind?"

"No," Heero answered back.

"Then move!"

"No. I don't think that young man wants anything to do with you. So, why don't you leave and go put some clothes on. Your tallywacker is hanging out."

The distant sound of the outside door slamming shut, sounded like a death knell to the redhead. He glared at the boy guarding the stairwell and stormed back up to his flat.

Heero allowed a slight smile to cross his features before continuing his journey upward. He could still feel the heat where Duo's body had rested against his. Tomorrow he intended to find out all he could about the braided boy. And he knew the perfect place to start...Quatre Raberba Winner.

Duo wandered through the city, heading back to his family's home. He was going to be very late, but didn't feel like moving any faster. Owen would probably beat the crap out of him, and right now he really didn't give a damn. Treize's words ran in a continuous loop in his head, each repetition dug deeper into his soul. He had known that things were too good to be real and that his lover was hiding something. Well, today he found out what that nasty surprise was. The ginger-haired man hadn't really cared for him, only used him for the information Duo could give him in order to write his article.

A car horn broke through his misery and he looked up to see who was trying to get his attention. A pale blue limousine pulled up beside him and the back window powered down.

"Hey Duo!" Quatre said, sticking his head out of the open window. "What are you doing on this side of town?"

He flashed the little blonde a weak smile. "Nothin'. Just visitin' a friend, but he's not home today."

"He's not one of your _special friends_, is he?"

"Yeah, we had a date today, but he stood me up. And since he's not home, I'm SOL." A single snowflake drifted down and landed in his chestnut hair. "Ah, hell! Can this day get any worse?"

"Hop in; we'll give you a ride."

"Thanks, Kitty-cat," Duo said, opening the door and slipping onto the soft, leather seat. He drew his tattered coat closer to his body and stared out the window, discouraging conversation.

Quatre sighed and gripped Trowa's hand a little tighter. Every since leaving the hospital the braided boy had pulled away from the two who had befriended him. And he was coming to school with fewer and fewer bruises. The blonde knew that his friend wasn't seeing clients like he had been, or at least according to Mr. Reid.

The whole situation raised alarms in Quatre's mind. There were things that were hidden and he, Quatre Raberba Winner, intended to find them out. Trowa nudged him and brought his attention back to the limo.

"What do you want to do tonight?" the banged boy asked.

"Well, we've got a test in history that needs to be studied for and Zechs is going to be home, at least for a short time. He'll probably return to student housing later tonight." Duo's sniff of disbelief drew the interest of the other two in the vehicle. "Duo, do you know my brother?"

"Never met him," Duo said, not turning his focus from the window. "I hear he's just great though."

"Yes, he's the best. He and his friend Treize are in some of the same classes," Quatre burbled. "I hear that you've met Treize."

"You could say that." The coldness in Duo's voice caused the blonde to shiver. "Look, this is my street; you can just let me off here." He reached for the door handle before the car came to a complete stop. "Hey, Trow, can I ask you something? Alone I mean."

"Sure Duo, whatever you need." He leaned over and gently kissed Quatre on the cheek.

The two boys exited the car and stepped a short distance away. Quatre could see their mouths moving, but they were too far away for him to hear what was being said. The feelings he had gotten off of Duo weren't good. Something had happened and the braided boy was suicidal. And that something had to do with Treize Khushrenada. When he got his hands on the jackass, Treize would pay for upset the fragile boy.

Duo and Trowa shook hands and walked away from each other; the chestnut-haired boy towards his home and Trowa back toward the car. He had a very disturbed expression on his face as he settled back into the warmth and comfort of the vehicle.

"What..?"

"I can't tell you," Trowa said, looking very disturbed. "I made a promise to Duo and I'm not gonna break it."

"Okay, I won't ask about it. But when you can tell me, please do so."

"I will, promise."

Duo walked into the house, totally oblivious to what was going on around him. Owen's hard hand grabbed a hold of his arm. The boy hissed in pain and he looked up at his father.

"Where the hell have you been?" Owen growled. "I got a very disturbing call from your school today."

"So?"

"Is that all you have to say?"

Duo pulled away from the older man and rushed into the kitchen. He grabbed the biggest, sharpest knife out of the butcher's block that sat on the counter top.

"Back off or I'll turn you into a eunuch!" he yelled, brandishing the blade.

Owen stepped back at the vehemence of his son's tone; that and the eight-inch cook's blade cause him to pause.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Burning Bed**

Trowa waited in the copse where he'd first seen Duo and Quatre together. The bucolic setting had changed in a great deal in the past two months; the trees were bare and six inches of snow blanketed the ground like cotton-wool. The wind moaned in the upper branches like a damned soul. Tomorrow would be the first day of winter and Mother Nature mourned the loss of her fair-weather children.

The sound of twigs snapping and feet scuffing on the snow-covered leaves broke through his rumination. He carefully stashed the case he'd carried out here into a hollow bolt hole and put his body between his contraband and the unknown person approaching. A slight figure with a heavy burden on his shoulders came into view. It was Duo and his body language bothered Trowa.

Ever since the day Quatre and he picked the lonesome boy up, a vital spark had disappeared. Gone was the manic craziness, replaced by a somber, beaten personality. Something had happened and the uni-banged boy couldn't figure out what. But he intended to.

"Hey, Trowa," Duo said, stopping just out of arm's reach. "Didcha bring it?"

"Here," Trowa answered, reaching into the trunk of the tree. "I can't say that I like this, but as you've pointed out, I owe you." He opened the case and showed the braided boy the .22 caliber semiautomatic Ruger that rested in the padding.

Duo reached into the inner pocket of his worn pea coat and drew out five hundred dollars in crumpled twenty-dollar bills. "This oughta cover the cost of the gun. So you don't get into trouble." He took the case, closed it and stuffed the rumpled bills into Trowa's hands.

"Duo..."

"Don't. Look, things will be over very soon. Trust me." He started walking away, stopped and looked over his shoulder at the quiet boy. "Thanks for bein' my friend, even if we got off to a rough start."

"Duo..."

"See ya!" he yelled, rushing away from Trowa.

"I hope I didn't mess things up." Trowa shook his head and followed Duo's tracks out of the woods. "Maybe I should've told Quatre about this. I don't like it." He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial for his little love. "Quatre, I think I just made a huge mistake."

Duo walked into his family's garage, opened the case, drew out the gun and loaded it with the rounds he _"borrowed"_ from his father. He left the empty case on Owen's workbench. He flipped the safety off the weapon and quickly pocketed the pistol. The sight of his father's car resting in its stall, snow falling off the undercarriage with wet, sad plops made him angry. The increase in adrenaline got him ready for what was going to happen next.

He stole into the room, keeping his feet as quiet as possible and praying that the damp soles wouldn't squeak on the high-priced linoleum. The sight of a familiar package brought an up-swelling of anger and hatred that threatened to choke him out. Another damned gift from Roger Muscat and one that Owen had gladly accepted. Once again his father was feeding him into the chop shop of his ego; and because they didn't dare let Mr. Winner know exactly how Owen got and kept his clients, Duo would once again be sacrificed. He'd end up crucified on the cross of Owen's need and greed.

The absolute silence of the house caused Duo's nerves to jump, knowing that any moment his father's ugly mug would come into focus and he would have to face another abuser. But this time things were a wee bit different….now that he had Trowa's gun, there would be nothing to stop him from extracting his pound of flesh.

The soft creak of the loose floorboards in the kitchen was the only advanced warning that Duo got. As soon as he stepped further into the room, he was grabbed in a bone-crushing hug; one that was so tight that his joints and spine popped and cracked like so much stale popcorn.

Owen grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, but Duo had enough room to wriggle about and place the barrel of the pistol against Owen's lower ribs. He cocked the gun back, allowing his father time to register the fact that there was a loaded weapon threatening him life and limb.

"Give me a reason, old man," Duo growled, whirling around as Owen's grip loosened. "Just give me one reason why I shouldn't blast the living fuck out of you. If only to see what you really have hiding in there. I doubt that there's a heart tucked away, but who knows, we might just find something useful."

"You dumb bitch!" Owen snarled. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Who do you think I am?"

"You're the stupid bastard that's been using me as a stepping stone for your career and not giving a shit about what happens to me," Duo said, pulling away from the taller man. "I'm done being nothing more than a means to an end. From now on, the only one I think of is me. Got that, old man?"

"Why you worthless piece of trash, I oughtta…." Owen's voice trailed off in shock as Duo moved the barrel of the pistol from his ribs to his groin. He looked into the braided boy's eyes and saw the deep fire he started all those years ago. A frisson of fear crawled its way up his spine and a realization dawned on him. The abuse that he had heaped on this one poor child was coming back to haunt him.

Duo smiled up at his father with a feral grin, pulled the hammer back and fired the gun. Bits and pieces of torn flesh and splatters of blood covered his right hand, arm and side. He scooped up a dishtowel and pressed it against the gaping wound that had once been his father's instrument of torture. It now threatened to take the man's life.

"Oh no you don't, ya old fart," Duo said, slapping Owen's cheek hard to keeping him from passing out. "You don't get to go n'night until you tell me where I'm supposed to meet that piece of shit Muscat, got me?"

Owen gasped in pain. "He's waiting at the apartment and you're to wear what's in the box."

"Oh, great! Another whore's outfit. There ain't no way in hell that I'm putting anything that fraud's picked out, on. He'll just have to be happy to see me the way I am." He graced his fallen father with another not-quite sane smile. "Don't worry about your reputation, I'm gonna take care of the problem."

He walked over to the phone and picked it up off the cradle, hit the blue emergency button and waited until someone answered.

"911 to you have an emergency?" a woman's voice came over the receiver.

"Yeah, I just shot my old man in the balls. He needs an ambulance before he bleeds to death. And tell the cops that I won't be here when they get here, so to just let themselves in the front door." He considered his next words carefully. "My older brother is hiding under his bed, upstairs, so if they don't wanna smell piss, they'd better avoid that area." He dropped the phone, pocketed the gun and walked out of the house.

He headed for the apartment, taking the trails and paths known only to the younger generation to avoid any police involvement with his business. They weren't there to protect him when he needed it, so why should he allow them the right to interfere with his revenge. By the time they found him, Roger Muscat would be dead and Duo's life would be starting over.

He reached the building and took the elevator to the top floor. Nothing but the best for clients of Winner Enterprises and that even extended to the _'love nests'_ provided them by one Owen Reid. Who cares that the ones really sealing the deal were children who were forced into this by an unscrupulous asshole who only thought of himself and never of those whom he used to get ahead.

Duo approached the apartment carefully; he didn't want Roger getting the jump on him. He listened at the door, until it flew open and the man inside dragged him out of the relative safety of the hallway and into not purgatory, but hell itself. Roger drew his hand back and backhanded the small figure in front of him. Duo struggled to stay alert as each blow fell about his head and shoulders. The slimy snake wasn't constraining his hand to keep everyone from knowing what happened in this place.

Darkness painted Duo's eyesight, but the heavy weight of the gun in his pocket kept him from losing his battle. This was one war that Roger Muscat wouldn't win. The conqueror in this little game wasn't going to be the man who thought he owned people. No, the winner and new world's champion was Duo Maxwell. It's just that Roger didn't know that yet.

"Stupid, little bitch!" Roger snarled, shaking Duo and then throwing him to the floor. "Here I buy you a nice present and how am I repaid? You can't even wear the clothes I picked out special for you. Stupid brat!"

"Freeze, motherfucker," Duo snarled, pulling the gun out of his pocket and aiming at the man's forehead. "One more move and I'll blow your fucking brains out. Got it, bastard?"

"You think you can tell me what to do?"

"Yeah, I do. Ya see, I'm the one with the gun and you're not." Duo brandished the weapon so that the man in front of him could see the bloody mouth of the pistol.

"I guess that you'll do really well in prison," Roger drawled, taking a relaxed pose. "I mean, you already bark so pretty and just think of all the new and exciting friends you'll make. Too bad you won't see any of their faces."

"Shut up!"

"Touch a nerve, there; did I?"

"I'm not gonna listen to you anymore. There's nothin' that you can do to me that hasn't been done before." The braided boy looked at his tormentor and smiled. "You've got no power over me." He pulled the trigger and stood, wreathed in smoke as Roger's body fell to the floor, twitching its last involuntary spasms of life.

The bastard's brains lay, splattered all over the carpeting and wall behind him. Duo placed the gun on the table, sat down on the floor and just waited until the police got there. That was the one good thing about this building; if anyone heard gunshots they would call the cops.

Heero had seen the boy that had run into him the other day entering his family's building with a fey, wild look in his eyes. He stood, near the stoop, and debated whether or not to follow the baka in when Trowa and Quatre came upon him.

"Heero-kun," Quatre squealed, racing over to him.

"Don't call me that," Heero responded, turning to meet his friends. "You're not Japanese and your accent is horrendous."

Trowa laughed softly and gripped his best friend's shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"The boy that you two were visiting just entered the building and I'm trying to decide whether or not to see what he's up to." Heero's gaze was drawn upward. "There was something not right about him and I have a feeling that we're going to be needed here."

Trowa's face lost its joviality and he looked at his friends. "Did it look like he might have something in his pocket?"

"His right jacket pocket looked like it was hanging lower than the rest of the coat. Why?"

"Damn," Trowa swore under his breath.

"Trowa, what is it?" Quatre asked, laying his hand on his boyfriend's arm.

"I did something that I think I'm already regretting."

"And that would be?" Heero asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I owed Duo a really big favor for something that happened that ended up with him in the hospital and he called in the debt."

"Oh no, Trowa!" Quatre gasped, his hand involuntarily tightening on Trowa's sleeve, "what did you do?"

"I gave him a gun. He wanted it for protection from someone who's been hurting him so I borrowed one of my dad's and gave it to him." He looked down at his feet, his hair hiding most of his face. "I didn't think that he would use it on anyone. But I also thought that he'd better be protected from people like that man we met in the hospital."

"Enough recriminations," Heero snapped as he headed into the building. "Do either of you know where he might be headed?"

"I think there's a hospitality suite here that Mr. Reid keeps for visiting clients. It's on the penthouse floor." Quatre headed into the building without waiting for Trowa and Heero. The two of them could talk a matter to death and he didn't intend on waiting until something really wrong happened to Duo. The two followed in his footsteps, Heero looking a bit confused at Quatre's independent streak. Trowa just gave him a powerless smile and a thoroughly Gaelic shrug of the shoulders.

The three of them rode the elevator to the twelfth floor in silence, each of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. The gentle bump of the car as it rose higher and higher and the ding of the bell announcing each floor they passed the only sounds. Then, over the mechanical noises, a muffled pop and stillness. Trowa cursed under his breath and willed the lift to hurry.

Quatre laid an understanding hand on his arm and gently squeezed. "It'll be okay," he said. "We're almost to the top and then we'll be able to do something about whatever's going on, all right?"

"It's gonna have to be," Trowa answered, unconsciously mimicking Duo's speech patterns.

The car crept up the last three floors at a snail's pace and the three boys in it were about ready to get off and take the stairs up the last flight. The door slowly opened and they crowded each other to exit their trap.

One of the doors had a small amount of smoke wafting out from under it and Heero pounded on that one.

"C'mon in," a voice that sounded somewhat like Duo's answered. Heero tried the knob and it opened easily.

Sitting on the floor, covered in blood, was Duo. His braid lay against his butt and his eyes were the same, blank that they had been in the hospital. He looked up at them without any sign of recognition.

"I did it," he kept repeating. "I killed him."


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for the wait, but I got to spend ten fun-filled days in the hospital and ever since my muse has gone south for the summer.

The usual stuff, don't own and I'm so broke I can't afford to pay attention so it would be a waste of your time.

**HOLDING OUT FOR A HEERO**

"I did it, I killed him," Duo repeated, rocking back and forth on the floor. He unconsciously rubbed his arms, like they were cold and he needed to warm them up. "I'm free. Never will anyone ever hurt me again."

"Duo," Quatre said, sinking to the floor next to the braided boy. "Duo, can you hear me?"

"Hey, Kitty-cat-Quatre, how ya doin'?"

"I'm fine and you?"

"I've never been better. I got myself free from Roger and from Owen." Duo gave him a sweet, almost childlike smile.

"What did you do to your foster father?" Quatre asked, his voice raising an octave.

"Not foster father, Kitty-cat. The dumb bastard is my real father. We've had paternity tests and whatever else done. He just couldn't believe that a little runt like me could have come from him."

"Did you kill him too?"

"Nope, just shot the fucker in his nutsack and left him to bleed out all over the floor. Oh, wait, I put pressure on it and he'd almost stopped bleeding by the time I got off the phone with the cops. O.J. was hiding up under his bed. For some reason the dumb jackass is now afraid of me. Of me, Quatre." He looked at the two boys still standing. "Hey, Trowa, how the hell are ya? And who's this? One of your friends?"

"He's Heero Yuy and in our class also."

"Yeah, he's the one that your dingy sister, Relena is always chasing after." Duo held up one blood-covered hand to the new person in his circle. "You have my condolences."

"Hn," Heero said, being his normal, talkative self.

"He don't say much, do he, Quatre?"

"No, but we love him anyway."

"Does Trowa know how you feel about the new guy?" Duo asked his voice dropping into a confidential tone.

"Shut up, baka," Heero growled at him.

Duo shrank away from the gruff voice and huddled against Quatre's side. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Quatre's arms went around the boy cowering at his side and he flashed Heero a look of utter disgust. The distant sound of sirens brought his attention to their surroundings. He motioned to Trowa and his boyfriend sank to his knees beside their injured companion and Quatre pulled his cell phone and hit speed dial.

"Father?" Quatre said, walking a short distance from the group. "I've got a rather large problem." He listened to his father for a little and shook his head in disapproval. "Look I know what you think you know is the correct thing, but you've been deceived and one of my friends has suffered for your lack of attention to details. Please forgive me for being rude, but I'm rather upset right now."

Trowa could hear the low rumble of Mr. Winner's voice, but he was too far away to catch any of the words. The sirens were getting closer and it wouldn't be long before the police came charging into the apartment like avenging heroes. He looked up at Quatre with a look of _'hurry before we're toast'_ and the little blonde gave him an encouraging smile.

"Just call off the police, Father and we'll bring the attacker to you and you can decide if he's truly responsible for his actions today." He stopped talking and listened to what was being said on the other end of the line. "Yes, I know that one person was maimed and another killed, but seeing as they were torturing the person who did it to them... I would call that just desserts, wouldn't you?" He listened again. "I know that you have a lot of pull with the D.A. and the police department here, as they are really just your private security force. Well, the police and not the District Attorney, however I happen to know that the D.A. is up for re-election this year and if he doesn't have Winner support there's a very good chance that he will lose the election and primary both. All you need to do is exert your patron's muscles and he will listen to what's going on. Believe me, Father you don't want the public to get a hold of the information that Duo's got. It won't look good for Winner Industries, INC and might even bring down a federal investigation." Quatre smiled as his words hit home and he knew that his father was his to command. "Thank you, sir. We'll take him out the back way while you make all the arrangements."

Quatre clicked the phone shut and looked at the other two. "We are to take him, immediately to my father's office and from there he'll decide what's to happen to Duo." He held up his hand to forestall any questions or remarks. "We can discuss this in the limo, right now we need to get out of here before the police get in and take our friend away. Heero, do you know any secret or barely used passageways in this building?"

"There's an old access hall that runs through the middle of the building. And before you ask, it's not on any of the blueprints, I've looked. It runs to the building next door and from there we should be able to escape to your car. Is your old man sending it?"

"Rashid should be here in the next twenty minutes or so. And all we really need to do is to stay out of sight until my father makes his calls. In the time it'll take us to get to the other building and into the car, things should calm down." Quatre kneeled next to Duo and gently cupped his face in his hand. "Duo, you need to come with us, okay?"

"If you say so, Kitty-cat," Duo said in a childlike voice.

"I do. Now, come on and let's get you out of this place." He looked around and saw the dead man's trench coat hanging on a coat rack near the door. "Let's put that on him and we can sneak him out that way. At least his bloody clothes will be hidden from the nosey neighbors."

"Good idea," Trowa said, grabbing the coat and flinging over the slender shoulders of his friend. "Heero, let's go."

Heero stood there, his emotions in a tangle. The sight of the braided baka in such distress brought up feelings that he wasn't ready to face. Granted, he had dated Relena and that had gone absolutely nowhere. The dingy blonde left him feeling hunted and trapped, but this boy (the one that no one wanted or cared about) left him feeling like someone had opened his head, put a spoon in and given it a good stir. He turned away to get his body back under control. A few deep breaths and thoughts of cleaning the latrines at summer camp convinced his groin to settle back into its normal position.

"Hn," he responded to Trowa and he headed out the door, taking the lead.

Quatre helped Duo to his feet and cried out as the braided boy's legs refused to hold his weight. Heero turned back into the room, grabbed the baka and swung him up into his arms. Duo fought with him for a few moments and then collapsed against him. Trowa and Quatre fell in behind them and Heero began to lead them out of the building to safety.

Zayeed Winner waited for his son and the young man that had caused so many problems to arrive. Quatre hadn't been wrong before. No one could be right all the time but his son had an annoying habit of being correct in most cases. The older man paced the room, impatiently, waiting for the boys to arrive. How many of them there would be, he didn't know. But he was expecting at least Trowa Barton to join the party. There was something strange about the relationship between Quatre and his best friend. That was a problem for another day, right now he had a murderer to interview and an attempted murder and a homicide to solve. The rattle of the doorknob caused him to whirl around and face whoever was coming in.

Quatre stepped through the door follow by the Barton boy and Heero Yuy. In Yuy's arms was a beaten and battered boy that Winner recognized as Reid's foster son. The fragile chestnut-haired boy lay lifeless against the Yuy boy's chest.

"What the hell is going on?" he snapped, looking at his son.

"This is Duo Maxwell..."

"Yes, I know of Mr. Maxwell, his foster father has told me all about the problems this young man has caused him," Zayeed interrupted, impatiently.

"No, you know what Owen Reid wants you to know. Duo has told us something different and it matches with his current condition," Quatre snapped at his father, losing his temper. It had been a very rough day and he really didn't have time for idiots. His nerves were stretched to the very limit and it was all he could do to keep from breaking down. In that apartment, today was the first time that Quatre had seen a dead body, outside of a funeral home and it left a very bad taste in his mouth. But then, seeing Duo's injuries and matching them with what he and Trowa had seen back in October; it really pissed him off.

"Alright, Quatre tell me what you know," his father responded to the anger in his son's voice.

"About two months ago, Trowa and I noticed that Duo was covered in bruises and that he was seriously injured. After a few things happened, he ended up in the hospital with a punctured lung and other wounds. While we were visiting, the man that ended up dead showed up and it was obvious that Duo was terrified of him. And when we found him today Duo informed us that Owen Reid wasn't his foster father."

"He's not?" Zayeed asked, confusion written on his face.

"No, sir," Duo croaked from Heero's arms. "He's my biological father, but he won't claim me; says I'm too weak and scrawny, not like my half-brother." Tears threatened to fall from his eyes and his voice broke on the last syllable.

"Well, if he's your father, why do you whore yourself out?"

"Because, that's what my father wants." Duo looked at him from the dubious safety of Heero's arms. "The men that I sleep with are ones who do business with Winner Industries and the only way that they will stay with your company is to be wined and dined and fucked by the sex of their choice. Most of them only want to pretend that they're fucking their kids; whether it's a boy or a girl."

"There's a girl?" Zayeed asked, sitting down heavily.

"Yeah, her mom's the woman who used to clean our house. She's illegal and her daughter was born here in the States and the only way that she can stay with her child is to rent her out by the hour for Owen."

"WHAT!"

"You heard me. Besides, that isn't the worst thing that he's done."

"What could be worse than that?"

"The night we buried my mother, he crawled into my bed and raped me," Duo said, turning his face into Heero's chest. "And he's been doing it every night since. He gave me to Roger Muscat as a toy, knowing that he wanted to kill me. And he did it all in the name of Winner Industries. Aren'tcha proud?"

"Not really. Do you have any proof of these allegations?"

"In his desk at the office, in the right-hand drawer there's a date book with all of my and her appointments in it. Other than that, you'll have to question him about it." Duo fell quiet and his body sagged in the support of Heero's arms. "You can ask O.J. if you want, but he's not all that intelligent and he knows that Owen will kick his ass if he says anything. But if you make it like you're gonna treat me like our father did, he'll tell you everything." He gave his questioner a sad, sweet smile. "I guess that it helps to know your enemy's weakness."

Zayeed Winner sat down heavily, not believing what he heard. The man that he had personally recruited, while he helped the business to grow and stay solvent, did it on the innocent backs of children. He wished that he could go back into his shell of ignorance, but it was too late for that. Like Pandora, he couldn't return the evil back to its box and he had to decide what he was going to do with the heinous knowledge. He couldn't, in good faith, go back to allowing children to use their bodies to get the things that the company needed. Now he understood how Reid had kept some of their less dependable accounts on the books. He had thought that it was just a case of a silver-tongue, but no Winner Industries had unknowingly supported white slavery and the corruption of minors.

"I guess that I have no choice but to interrogate your older brother," Zayeed said, putting his head in his hands. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"Well," Quatre answered, moving to block his father's sight. Right now wouldn't be a good time to lay on the guilt. The feelings emanating from his father were ones that there wasn't really time to interpret. "You still need to talk to the District Attorney about Duo and we need to decide where we're going to keep him."

"I hadn't given it much thought," Zayeed said, looking at his son. "Do you have any thoughts on the matter?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. He can stay with us and you'll become his real foster parent." Quatre gave his father a cheeky grin and then turned his attention back to Heero and Duo. The braided boy's eyes were closed and his breathing shallow, but steady. "Heero?"

"I think he's asleep," Heero grunted, pulling the limp form closer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Here Comes the Sun**

Duo sat up and rubbed his eyes. The feeling of 1000 thread count, pure Egyptian cotton sheets against his skin was something that he could really get used to. The sound of blue jays squabbling in the trees outside his window brought home the fact that he no longer resided with O.J. and Owen; that being the best thing about this past winter. Now, in early March, the only thing he had to really worry about were his grades and whether he could pass gym class. He snuggled back under the soft sheets and softer blankets and drifted back off the sleep. Life was good.

A brisk tap on the door woke him an hour and a half later. "Come in," he murmured, sleepily. Rashid entered the room and opened the curtains, letting the early morning sunlight in. "Gah! Shut it! Shut it!" he groaned, pulling the covers back over his head.

"Master Duo," Rashid said, whipping back the covers and exposing him to the cooler air of the room. "It's time to get up. If you don't hurry you'll make Masters Quatre and Trowa late again."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm gettin' up." He glared at the older man from under the cover of his bangs. "Just when my dreams start gettin' good, ya hav'ta wake me up. Geez!"

"What you like for breakfast?" Rashid asked, ignoring Duo's bitching.

"I don' know. What sounds good to you?"

"I've already had my breakfast, sir. I need to know what to tell cook."

"Okay, okay," Duo sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll have an omelet with mushrooms, cheddar cheese and sausage with hash browns, okay?" He didn't wait for the man to answer, but slid out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He stepped into a little haven just for him, his own bathroom. For the first time in his life he didn't have to share space with O.J. and all of his crap and he loved every minute of it. Gone were the bottles of hair gel, mousse and hairspray. No longer did he have to fight for room with the turd's dirty clothes and smelly socks, none of which ever made it to the hamper without Duo's help. The clean, austere room welcomed him and the only things that were sitting on the vanity were a dish of hand soap and his hairbrush.

He stripped, took the band out of his hair and stepped into the steaming water. Hair and body were quickly scrubbed, conditioned and rinsed; he shut the water off and stepped out of the tub, grabbing two towels. He started the long process of dealing with his hair. Mr. Winner asked him point-blank to get a haircut. Duo had gotten the scissors out of a drawer and snipped one hair to chin-length. He grinned at the stunned man, giving him his best impish smirk and the older man had dissolved into gales of helpless laughter. The subject was never brought up again.

The calm, relaxing routine left his mind free to wander. And it meandered its way to the hectic days after he shot both Owen and Roger. The detectives had rifled through Roger's belongings and found his secret stash of video tapes, including the ones that showed Owen agreeing to his demands. The topping on the cake was the single tape that proved what Duo's fate was supposed to be; it revealed that Owen had sold Duo to the sadistic man, knowing full well that he wouldn't be coming back alive. The demented man intended on killing him online and selling seats to the highest bidder. After seeing what had passed between the two men, the District Attorney had agreed that Duo was just fighting for his life and sanity. He was let off without any charges and given into the care of Mr. Winner and his family.

Duo tied off the braid with an elastic band and tore out of the bathroom. He opened the closet and grabbed the first set of tee-shirt and jeans that he could get his hands on. Pulled on the clothing and skipped out to the grand, sweeping staircase that rose from the main floor to the bedrooms on the second.

Rashid looked up at him and Duo threw the serious man an impish grin. He put his hands on the floor and kicked his legs up. He walked half way down the stairs on his hands. Reaching the landing mid-way up, he completed the walk-over and stood back up. The bearded man rolled his eyes and gave a huff of disapproval. With that, Duo climbed on the banister and slid the rest of the way down, landing on his rump with an undignified squeak.

"Master Duo," Rashid said, helping the boy to his feet. "That is not the proper way to descend a staircase."

"But Ra-a-shid," Duo chirped, "the banister needed dustin' and I'm not doin' anything right now." He batted his eyelashes at the larger man. "Besides, I haven't gotten use to being waited on. Remember, I'm Cinderella in this tale."

"Yes, Master Duo, we all know your part in this fairytale. Now please, cook gets very upset when her food isn't enjoyed while hot. Go and eat your breakfast so that we can leave at a descent time." The big man glared down at his charge. Somehow this one boy was full of more mischief than Quatre, Trowa and Heero combined. But he brought a sunniness that had been lacking from the family, at least until Master Zechs made an unscheduled appearance at the table and then Duo's personality became all pouts and gloom. Something had happened between the two young men and time would tell if it would be healed. But considering what the braided boy had been through in his life, it's no wonder that he had a few quirks that needed fixing.

Duo bounded into the dining room with a smile on his face and springs on his feet. His good mood lasted until he saw who was breaking bread with the family. The sight of Zechs' long blonde lock made the younger boy glare and a pout come across his lips. His sunny outlook dissipated like the sun being covered by clouds.

"Good morning, Duo," Quatre chirped when he saw his classmate. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, well enough I guess," he responded, glaring at his unknown rival. "What's he doin' here?"

"My parents live here, remember Duo?" Zechs said, looking up from the morning paper. "I think there are a few things that we need to talk about."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Shall we do this here or would you rather we took it outside."

Duo looked at his foster family and nodded. "Let's take it outside."

Zechs stood up and led the braided boy out into the sunroom that bordered the breakfast nook. He took a chair and motioned for Duo to do the same. He steepled his fingers and looked at his rival over the top of them.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," he quietly said, holding up a hand to stall the words that he knew would follow. "I don't blame you; you were an innocent lead astray by Treize and his perverted games. And if I had known about you, I would have put a stop to it before he managed to hurt you."

"Why?" Duo asked, sullenly. "Why worry about someone who's your opponent?"

"Because, you're only fifteen years old and you shouldn't be with people who are going to use you like he did." He gave Duo a soft smile. "I've already taken him to task. He should have gotten you out of that situation when he found out what kind of life you were leading, but he didn't. Treize likes to toy with people's lives and I told him that if I caught him doing anything like this again, I would chop his cock off and feed it to the dogs."

"I betcha he was really shocked, wasn't he?"

"You have no idea." Zechs stood up and offered Duo his hand. "Can we at least try to be civil to each other? I mean I have more of a reason to dislike you than the other way around…he's my boyfriend."

"Point taken," Duo answered, standing up. "I guess that I can try for Quatre's sake. It really distresses him when we don't get along."

Zechs wrapped an arm around Duo's shoulders. "My little brother has more than a touch of Empathy, I think. He can feel things that people think they have hidden. He's a lot like our mother."

Duo canted his head and looked at the tall blonde. "Whatever happened to your mother? Nobody will tell me and I get the idea that it upsets Kitty-Cat-Cat-Quatre when I ask."

"Our mother died giving birth to him," Zechs answered, his face grave. "And our father, instead of blaming him, loves him all the more for the fact that he's the last of her children."

Duo absorbed the information quietly, a question forming on him face. "How far apart are he and Relena?"

"About eleven months." Zechs laughed at the look of chagrin on the younger boy's face. "You're wondering why she's in your class and not in the one before, right?"

"Uh-hah. So how'd that happen?"

"She decided that she was going to marry Heero and flunked one grade, so that they could be together." The blonde looked down at his watch, "you'd better go get something to eat before you race out the door."

"Shit!" Duo swore. He raced back into the breakfast room and began scarfing down his food, barely tasting the wonderful omelet. The sound of a horn made him down the food even faster. When he had had his fill, he bounced up, grabbed his backpack and raced for the door. He reached the car and slid in next to Quatre. Trowa sat across from them and next to him was the ever silent Heero Yuy.

"Hey Heero-chan!" Duo chirped, flashing the messy-haired boy his best _'shit-eating'_ grin. "How ya doin' today? You gettin' any from Relena?"

"Shut up, Baka," Heero growled. He settled back into the soft leather of the seat and tried, once again, to sort through his feelings toward the braided nuisance. The chipper boy made his head spin and he'd been having the most disturbing dreams about him.

The one he'd had this morning still lingered. He'd been walking through a heavily wooded area and gotten lost. Off in the distance a beautiful voice and song led him on. He reached a crossroad on the path and stopped to listen for that musical voice. If he turned his head to the right the music was louder. He took that path and it lead deeper into the woods. The trees, branches and undergrowth wouldn't let him through until he drew his knife and began hacking his way through. At the touch of the cold steel, the flora had parted and he stumbled into a clearing. Sitting in the middle of the clear space was a huge boulder and perched on top of that, a very naked, feral looking Duo. The chestnut-haired beauty finished his song and then slid down the cold face of the stone. He sashayed toward the serious boy, hips swaying and his manhood gently bouncing with each step. They had come together and did things that scrambled Heero's brains, each touch, glide and slide felt like the real thing. When his alarm went off, he nearly destroyed it for ruining the wonderful illusion he'd built in his dream world. Stupid alarm clock!

After gym class, Duo waited until all the other boys were done taking their showers before he took his. He liked the fact that his P.E. class was his last period of the day and he could take his time in the shower. He really hated getting cleaned up where everyone could see him. When he lived with Owen, he couldn't change his classes around, but with Mr. Winner, he could do whatever he wanted, as long as it wasn't disruptive for the school. Both Quatre and Trowa had afterschool activities, so there wasn't any hurry to get out of the shower.

He slipped into the silent room, turned on the shower the furthest from the door and began washing his sweaty hair and body up. He felt a little nervous; it had seemed like someone was watching as he cleaned up over the past two or three days. It gave him the creeps. To have someone watching him as he bathed made gooseflesh crawl up his body and he tried to hurry his ablution.

The sound of bare feet on the tile floor was the only warning he received before being thrown to the floor with strong arms pinning him down and soft, firm lips plundering his.

"What the fuck!" he screamed, after biting the attacking organs. A strong hand reached up and covered his mouth, sending him into panic-mode. He struck out against his assailant with hands and feet, only to be pinned down under a strong, lithe body.

"Shut up, Baka!" growled a familiar voice.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry about the long wait, but since the last time I posted I was hospitalized and being tested for pancreatic cancer. Everything turned out okay, so I will be posting more often. Thank you for your patience.**

**Don't own! If I did GW would be almost pornographic**

**Hit Me With Your Best Shot**

"Shut up Baka," a familiar voice growled in his ear and Duo stopped struggling.

"Heero?" he queried, looking up through sodden bangs. His brain took a few seconds to process the information and when it had, he pushed his attacker off of him and scrambled to his feet. "What the fuck?" he screamed. "Do you really think that I'm that cheap? Well, I'm not. Next time you want a discount lay go somewhere else!" Duo doubled up his fist and slugged the other boy as hard as he possibly could. He swept up his towel and other things he had brought into the shower area and stormed out of the room.

Heero sat up from the supine position; the water pounding down on him. He tried to figure out where he'd gone wrong. Relena always liked it when he stole a chaste kiss and the ones he'd manage to give the braided boy were far from pure. The water started running cold, so he stood up and headed into the main part of the locker room. The sight in front of him made his body harden further with need.

Duo didn't bother drying off before trying to pull on his jeans. When he lived with Owen and O.J., he always wore the older boy's hand-me-downs; but now he wore clothing that hugged his body. For the first time in his life he had a problem getting into clothes wet. Formfitting clothing and wet skin didn't mix well. He twitched, shimmied, shook and wriggled to pull his pants on. He didn't realize what his show was doing to his attacker.

Heero drew a deep breath, trying to control his body. His mind slipped into neutral and for the second time in less than fifteen minutes, he did something he'd never done before; acted without thinking. He rushed the delectable form in front of him, bending him over and ending up on top of him as they tumbled to the ground. Duo's head slammed into the edge of the lockers, knocking him silly for a few moments and leaving him relaxed and malleable in Heero's arms. The messy-haired boy decided he would try out one of the tricks that he learned online. He lifted and parted the other boy's ass cheeks and began licking his secret pucker. The rich musky odor filled his nostrils and Duo' soft moans of pleasure encouraged him to continue. He delved his tongue in deeper, allowing that muscle to do what his aching cock wanted. He reached around his partner and began to fondle and stroke his awakening manhood. Lithe hips thrust back toward the invading organ and Duo's cock started to harden with need.

His senses slowly returned to him and Duo realized that he was once again being violated. A deep-seated anger flared and he saw red. He was so pissed that he struck out, blindly, and managed to catch his attacker right in the balls. Heero rolled off him, trying to draw a full breath.

"Next time you touch me without my permission, I will cut your cock off and feed it to you," he growled, getting up and moving away from the messy-haired boy. "And believe me, I will do it."

Heero looked at his obsession and said the first thing that came to his mind, "Hn."

"Yeah, hn, to you too," Duo snarled. He managed to get his jeans pulled up and slithered into his dry tee-shirt. As he headed for the door, it swung open and Quatre walked cautiously into the locker room.

"Duo, are you all right?" the petite blonde asked, as the braided boy fastened his jeans and slipped into his jacket.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He turned at glared at his attacker. "Just somebody doesn't know the meaning of the word _**NO**_. How'd you know I was in trouble?"

"Usually you're out in the car waiting for us by now. That and I felt your fear and anger." The little blonde glared back at the messy-haired boy lying on the floor. "Come on, let's go home."

" 'Kay." The two smaller boys walked out of the locker room.

Trowa had slipped in behind his boyfriend and now kneeled next to Heero's head. "What are you trying to do?" he asked.

"I thought that it was obvious," the stoic boy responded. "I'm trying to seduce Maxwell and he's not going along with the plan." He looked at the unibanged boy kneeling on the floor with him. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Perhaps you should ask him out before you try seduction. Remember what his father had him doing before he ended the abuse. I think he wants to be wined and dined." Trowa canted his head to one side. "What I'm going to tell you is to remain between us, all right?"

"Hn," Heero grunted. He nodded his agreement.

"There was one of the men who _"dated"_ Duo that he really liked. You could say that he was infatuated with him, but the ass was only using him as a source in a series of articles for the Mount Marty newspaper."

Heero sat up, his normally implacable face suffused with anger. "Who?" he growled.

"Some prick by the name of Khushrenada," Trowa answered.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I'll find him and give Duo his balls as earrings."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Trowa said, shuddering at the thought of gold-plate testis dangling from Duo's ears. "So, you're going to have to take it slow and try to tame the raging beast that slipped out today."

"Yeah," Heero said, looking down at his lap. "I've never had a problem like that. Don't know what came over me. I don't usually act without thinking, but twice in less than fifteen minutes I did."

"Lust's a bitch, isn't it?" the green-eyed boy asked, standing up and holding out a hand to help his friend off the floor.

"Hn," came the quiet answer.

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, later."

Trowa walked out of the locker room with a slight smile lighting his face. It was almost worth listening to Quatre bitch to see Heero struggling with his emotions. Heero's stability would be good for Duo and the braided boy's restless energy and spontaneity might just let the chocolate-haired boy to relax and lose some of the seriousness in his personality. They would make a perfect pair, if they could only survive the rough new relationship trail. He stopped and scratched his head; maybe he should tell Quatre that he told Heero about Treize's mistreatment of Duo.

'_Nah, Heero's not the type to just fly off the handle and do something stupid,"_ he thought, shaking his head.

Quatre sat across from Duo and gave him a sad sweet smile. The high dudgeon and color to the chestnut beauty made the smaller blonde want to giggle. The huffing and puffing from the other side of the limo hid a myriad of feelings; all of which were tangled in tight knots. Desire warred with anger and terror fought with pleasant memories.

"Stupid, mother-fucking jackass," Duo spat out under his breath. "Who the hell does he think he is? What the hell does he think I am? If I ever catch that pitiful excuse for a man anywhere near me, I'll remove his reasons for living; both of them!"

"Duo, calm down," Quatre said, gently exerting his Gift to pacify the other boy.

"If it were you, would you be calm?" he snapped, glaring at the little blonde.

"I don't know, I've never been in that position before."

"Yeah and you never will be," Duo answered, looking him right in the eye. "You father didn't whore you out to keep his job. Hell, your old man thinks that you can do no wrong. Wish mine had been like that."

"Oh Duo, I'm so sorry. I wish that I'd taken the time to get to know you before I did."

"Don't worry about it. You just saw what Owen wanted you to see; the trampy little whore who enjoyed giving his oh so concerned _foster_ father a hard time."

"Well, I should have ignored the rumors and followed my feelings."

"Hind sight is always twenty-twenty and all that jazz." He looked out the window. "Do you think we should go back and rescue Trowa?"

"No, he's probably giving Heero a piece of his mind."

Duo barked out a laugh. "Do you really think that he's saying that much to Mister Handsy?"

"No," Quatre laughed softly. "But what words he's using will do what they're supposed to do." The door to the school swung open and Trowa stepped into the bright, spring sunlight. The little blonde's face lit up at the sight of his boyfriend.

"Oh, geez," Duo groaned. "Get a room!"

"Maybe later," he responded, opening the door for the tall, slender boy who had become the whole universe to him.

Trowa slid in next to Quatre, pulled the smaller boy onto his lap and planted a deep, searing kiss on his waiting, trembling lips. "Miss me?" he asked against that willing mouth.

"Oh yes," Quatre breathed, trying to draw all of Trowa's essence into his body.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry about the wait, but here's the next chapter and I hope that you enjoy it. I haven't been working on this fic because it wasn't getting any reviews.**

**Now for the legal BS. Don't own, so don't sue. I don't own anything but several crazy mutts and the true masters of the house, the Nekos!**

**Running With the Shadows of the Night**

Duo threw his pencil across the room. Ever since his run in with Yuy in the locker room, he couldn't concentrate on anything. He was supposed to be doing his homework, but all he could remember was the unwanted, hot and steamy attack. Somehow that Japanese degenerate had wormed his way into the braided boy's thoughts and wouldn't leave. Duo was considering charging the other boy rent for the amount of time he was tying up in his head.

From one side, he could hear Quatre and Trowa talking softly through the wall. And from the other side he perceived a familiar sound. It was a squeak like a rusty hamster wheel and an all too recognizable moan ….Treize Khushrenada. That red-haired bastard was screwing Zechs and neither of them had any common courtesy. The manipulative phony didn't even realize that Duo lived with the Winners now. There was someone he could legitimately beat the fuck out of and no one would care. He stormed out of his room and kicked the entrance to Zechs' lodgings in.

"Khushrenada, you fuckin' inbred twit, I'm gonna take you apart," Duo bellowed at the man lying on top of Zechs. He strode over, pulled the two apart and drew a knife he had hidden on his person (he never went unarmed anymore). "Better yet, I'm gonna castrate you!"

The auburn-haired man looked at boy holding onto his shoulder, trying to place the face. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked, politely. "I mean, you do look familiar, but I'm not sure where we've met be … Oh dear." He stared into furious violet eyes, finally putting a name to the ferocious purple orbs that were glaring at him.

"Oh, dear?" Duo screeched at him. "You use me for some goddamn newspaper story, steal my heart, make me feel like I'm someone important to you, then dump me and all you have to say is OH DEAR?"

Treize gave Zechs a begging look, asking to be rescued from the ankle-biter attacking him and was met with an implacable look from his lover.

"Don't look at me, Treize," Zechs answered, getting up and pulling on a robe. "I'm not going to rescue from your own stupidity this time. Duo has every reason to be both hurt and angry at you."

"Damn fuckin' straight I do." His glare deepened. "You knew what was goin' on and instead of helpin' me; you used me like everyone else in my life has. Did you win your Pulitzer? Did the story go nationwide?"

"Ah, no," Treize said, moving away from the exposed blade and getting a glass of wine from the bottle resting on ice in the cooler. "Someone killed the story before it was printed. Seems my editor found out that I didn't do the right thing and he buried it."

"Really?" Duo asked, the tip of the knife dipping down and away from his intended victim.

"Yes, he found out that the boy who shot his father in the balls and then killed the man who had been severely abusing him was you. Where he got that information, I'll never know."

"Simple," Zechs said, "I told him. I heard about Quatre's little friend who had been abused and then saw the extra key on the table near the door." He glowered at his never faithful boyfriend. "You seem to think that monogamy is a type of rare, tropical wood instead of being a solemn oath between two people who love each other. Oh and by the way, you're on probation with me now. If I catch you with anyone else, other than me, I'll let Duo exact his revenge and turn you into a eunuch."

"Damn straight I will," Duo spoke up. He looked at Treize. "I don't know what I saw in you. You're a bigger whore than I ever was, but as Zechs is now my big brother, you hurt him and I'll make you wish you'd never been born, comprendere?"

"I understand. Please forgive me for being such an ass."

"Dude, there's no forgivin' you. I just worry about Zechs; he seems to think you're kinda special." Duo headed for the door. "Do ya think the two of ya could keep it down? It sounds like a damned hamster wheel in here. Hey Red, maybe you'd better buy Zechs a new bed, at least that way your money'd be put to a good use."

He stepped out of the room and tried to quietly close the door. For some reason, the door and frame didn't fit right anymore. He couldn't figure how that happened.

* * *

Quatre cuddled up to Trowa, the green-eyed boy sat texting someone and by the knowing smirk on his face it was a person who had no clue about something. He waited until a break in the action and then swooped in to steal a heated kiss.

"Who are you texting?"

"Heero," Trowa softly answered. "He's trying to figure out where he went wrong with Duo. It seems that Relena likes it when he steals a kiss or two. However, they were never as hot as the ones that he shared with our friend and the poor dense idiot doesn't know what to do."

"Did you try having him send flowers, candy and love notes?"

"As if Duo's going to fall for all that after…." The sound of a door crashing open stopped him mid-sentence. He looked over at his lover and raised one eyebrow. "Do you think that Treize might be over?"

"Oh crap," the little blonde yelped, sliding off the bed and heading for the door. Trowa followed close behind, wanting to protect Quatre from the raging chestnut-haired boy.

They came around the corner, just in time to hear Duo's tirade against the spoiled, older man. Zechs' calm answers reassured the two that no one was in danger. They quickly scooted around the corner and waited. Duo backed out of the room and ran into some trouble with the door.

"What the fuck," the chestnut-haired boy muttered under his breath. "Doesn't look like this place is put together very well; the damned door doesn't fit anymore."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't kicked it in, it would fit better," Trowa answered, a sly grin lighting his features. "Anything you need to talk about, Duo?"

The braided boy glared at his two friends and stalked toward his bedroom. He turned around and flipped the uni-banged boy the bird and slammed his door shut.

"Fuck you, Barton," Duo muttered from behind the safety of the wood.

Trowa slapped a hand over Quatre's mouth and dragged his boyfriend back into their room. He replaced his hand with his mouth and soon had the tiny blonde writhing against the door. He picked him up and threw him onto the bed. With a flying leap, he joined him on the crisp-sheeted, soft matressed berth. Sloppy kisses and flying clothing followed until they both were in nothing but their boxers. Trowa drew patterns on the soft belly skin of his lover and traced them with his lips. Just as his mouth began its descent toward that one spot that would pleasure both of them, Quatre stiffened and looked toward the window.

"My father's home," he said, pushing away from Trowa. He began gathering up his clothing and pulling it on.

"Quatre?"

"Something's wrong; I can feel it from here." He threw open the door and hurried down to the first level. Trowa smiled, redressed and joined the little blonde.

Zayeed Winner entered the house, hoping to avoid his children, all four of them, until he had time to process the information he'd received before leaving the office. The sight of an unmarked police car outside his family home didn't help him to feel anymore secure. How something like this could have happened he didn't know and right now he needed time to think. He heard the soft footsteps on the stairs and hoped that it was Zechs coming to meet him. Luck deserted him yet again; both Quatre and Trowa stood there and the little blonde had a very serious look on his face.

"Father?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Quatre how was school?" he responded.

"It was alright. How was work and what are you hiding?"

"There are times that I wish you weren't so much like your mother. She could see right through me too." He walked over and poured himself two fingers worth of the fine Scotch he kept on hand for business associates and medicinal purposes. He then walked over to the brown leather sofa and flopped bonelessly down. "Something's come up and I'm not sure what to do about it."

"How can we help?" Trowa spoke up.

"I need the two of you to stay extremely close to Duo," he sighed, sitting back a little more.

"Why?" Quatre queried.

"It seems that the police took Owen Simpson, Sr. to the hospital last night with a possible heart attack and when he was supposedly unconscious he got up and left through one of the first floor Intensive Care Unit windows. The nursing staff had been tied up with a code blue and just before that happened the officer monitoring him had gone down to get a cup of coffee. It seems that he filled the bed with all the pillows in the room and slipped out." He swallowed the last finger of liquor in one gulp and looked at the two young men standing in front of him. "I would really like to keep this from Duo if at all possible. I don't want him to worry."

"He's loose?" came the straggled voice from the stairway. "No….no….he'll kill ME!" Duo screamed before he fainted dead away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here's another chapter. The more reviews I get the faster you get the good stuff. I'm not above blackmail**

**Now the legal stuff. Don't own, because if I did, they would be too sore to pilot their Gundams!**

**Gimme Shelter **

Heero marched up to the door of the Winner home. It had been four days since Duo had shown up for classes and he knew something wasn't right. Even when the braided baka lived with his old man and came to school with bruises and cuts, he still came. But since the day that the messy-haired boy had taken a _small_ advantage of him, there had been neither hide nor hair of the violet-eyed beauty; that along with Quatre's evasive answers to his questions, made Heero's danger alert come to life. His father had sent him to multiple self-defense classes and he had just received his fifth level black belt. If there was going to be trouble, he planned on being beside and protecting Duo. They'd have to get through him first and he was a harder nut to crack that his friends. Never again would his lover….no, beloved, stain his hands with blood.

He pounded on the door and waited for one of the servants to answer. As soon as Rashid opened the portal, he pushed passed the man and headed up to Quatre's room. The little blonde and Trowa could show him where Duo was. He shifted his duffle bag higher up on his shoulder; he intended to stay until everything was all right. He reached the right door and let himself in and glared at the two seated in the comfortable chairs in the room.

"My old man told me there's trouble here, so don't give me that _'Everything's okay here, we're all fine now, how are you?'_ bullshit," Heero growled at his friends. "Now are you going to tell what the fuck's going on with Maxwell or do I have to drag it out of you?"

"Ah, Heero what are you talking about?" Quatre answered, looking at Trowa to help pull him out of the fire.

"Don't look at me," the uni-banged boy said, "I've been in favor of bringing Heero in from the beginning."

"The beginning of what?"

"Duo's father escaped from police custody and has disappeared," Quatre responded, finally giving in to the pressure Trowa had been putting on him for the last week. "We don't know where to look for him. Duo's older brother is still with the foster family he had been placed in; so, that's a dead end."

Heero sat on the edge of the bed, his brows furrowing. "No wonder my father's having kittens. Alright, you're stuck with me. I'll be staying in Maxwell's room."

"Heero, we….I….that…." Quatre stumbled over his words until Trowa covered his mouth with his own. "That sounds like a good idea," he said after they broke the kiss

Heero threw the pair a tight smile and waited for one of them to remember that he hadn't been in the house since Maxwell moved in. When the others got so involved with each other that they forgot he was standing there, very patiently, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Ah, sorry," Trowa mumbled. "He's right next door, between Zechs and Quatre."

"Hn," Heero responded, eloquently.

He walked over to the door and opened it, without knocking, and found himself nose to point with a very sharp looking knife. The hand that held the weapon shook, slightly, and then the blade fell down to the side of a very un-Duo looking Duo.

His luminescent eyes were hollow and ringed by dark bruises. The usually neat hair showed signs of not being brushed for days and needed to be washed. The slightly acrid smell of body odor scented the air and the clothing he had been wearing the last day he was at school still adorned his body.

"Maxwell, you're a mess," Heero said, closing the door.

"What do ya want Yuy?"

"I'm your bodyguard from now on."

"There's no way in hell."

Heero looked at the disheveled boy and canted his head to one side. "Look, I did something that was really stupid and my little brain did the thinking for my big one, for that I'm sorry. But right now you need me; I can protect you from that asshole."

"Wow, almost a whole paragraph, Yuy. Are you going for a record?"

"Nope, you just make me do things I normally wouldn't," Heero answered, a slight smile lighting his features.

"Don't give me that much power," Duo said, making a cross with his forefingers it advert any control he had been granted with.

"Now, you need a shower," Heero stated, coming toward the other boy. He grabbed the end of the dirty braid and took the ponytail holder out of it. He looked around the room and found the one thing he needed, a brush. For some unknown reason a song that he had heard as a child flashed through his brain and he found himself humming it under his breath. Why the _'Hairbrush'_ song from _Veggie Tales_ stuck in his head, he'd never know.

He grabbed that dull, lifeless rope of hair and carefully unbraided it. Picking up the brush, he ran the implement through the dim, but glorious locks. The repetitive motions soothed him and seemed to have the same affect on Duo as well. Each pass drew a small moan from deep within the violet-eyed beauty and those little noises settled about four inches below Heero's belt. It took all of his famous self-control to keep him from throwing the lithe body in front of him down and ravishing it.

"I'm done," he huskily said, laying the brush down and combing his fingers through the chestnut satin before him.

"Ew, don't do that! My hair's filthy and it's got to be gross to touch."

"Then go take care of the problem. I'll stay right here; no one will get passed me."

"It's you I'm worried about."

Heero gave Duo a very serious look. "I promise, I won't do anything without permission from you. I was a fool and I always learn from my mistakes." He gave him a roguish grin. "Not that what I did was wrong, just the way I went about it."

"Peckerhead!" Duo swatted at him and headed into the adjoining bathroom.

Heero settled in at the window and waited. The sound of running water cast a spell of hypnotism on him and he fell into a light trance. His mind relaxed, but remained alert. Movement down on the street caught his attention. A shadowy figure lingered under a streetlamp, a battered fedora hat covered his face and a long trench-style coat cloaked the rest of him. The person was nowhere near the right height to be Owen, so he let him remain staring.

'_That's a cliché if I ever saw one,'_ Heero thought to himself. The appearance of the mystery man made him more than a little nervous. That sonofabitch Simpson was still out there, somewhere and his freedom meant that Duo had become a prisoner in his own home and that Heero had a job to do. He just wished that the police had taken the threat to the braided boy a little more seriously. But they couldn't do anything but look for the asshole until he did something to make his presence known and he seemed too smart for that.

"Jackass," he muttered under his breath.

"Did ya say somethin', Heero?" Duo said from the doorway of the bathroom.

"Nope, just thinking out loud." He turned to face the other boy. "That didn't take long. Feel better?" His breath caught at the sight of the other boy. He stood framed by the light of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms; his hair hanging free down his back in soft, damp waves and loose curls. He looked delectable.

"Yeah, sorry I was such a bitch when you came in. It's just that things are happening so fast that my head's still spinnin', ya know?"

"My father always says that events are like horses; they speed up, but eventually they will slow down." He threw the damp beauty a cheeky half-grin.

"That's really deep," Duo responded, coming over to sit next to his new roommate.

"Don't be too impressed, he read it in some book and took it as his own." That confession made both young men laugh and they moved away from the window.

* * *

Solo Maxwell stared up at the window with a crease in his brow. He had just returned to the country to find that he'd been declared dead and that his sister had succumbed to breast cancer. The bastard she had married lived in luxury on their dime, all his money coming from a trust set up by their parents. And Duo, left by his mother's death, forced into sex slavery and almost killed by that egomaniacal jackass just because he didn't resemble Owen or his Neanderthal, dumb-as-rocks son.

He sighed and moved out of sight. The boy was safe for now and Solo would make sure that he would remain that way for the rest of his life. He turned and left, hiding in the shadows like he had for most of his adult life.

* * *

Heero woke up with an elbow to the gut. Duo lay beside him thrashing in the midst of a nightmare. The messy-haired boy grabbed slender shoulders and shook his bed partner into consciousness.

"Duo," he murmured. "Come on, wake up."

"Hee-hee-Heero?" he questioned, looking up at the other boy in confusion.

"You were having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?"

"I don't remember much, just my father rapin' and beatin' me. Then his hands went around my throat and I couldn't breath." He shuddered and took a deep, shaking breath. He leaned over and gently kissed the cobalt-eyed boy on the lips. "Heero, I know I'm not a virgin…"

"Shut up, baka," Heero growled. "I don't think that being raped means you've lost your virginity." He held up a finger to forestall the inevitable response. "Neither does being pimped out by your father. You've never done it just for yourself, have you?"

"Yeah, a couple of times; but he was using me just like everyone in my life." He stared down at his hands, tears falling onto his hands.

"Not me, Duo," he said, cupping the pointed chin in the palm of his hand. "Never me. I will never intentionally hurt you. I'm only human and I'm sure that there will be times that we fight. However, I will never go out of my way to wound you."

"Heero?"

"Yeah?"

"Make me forget. Show me how much you care and do what you want with me."

"Yes," Heero sighed, pulling the other boy into his arms.


	14. Chapter 14

**Here's the latest chapter in the continuing saga of Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy. Will love finally win out in the end? Stay tune for a message from our sponsors.**

**The legalese; don't own so don't sue. If I did own Gundam and its franchise, there'd be a ton more sex and fewer politics! **

**All I Want to do is Make Love to You**

"Heero make me forget," Duo breathed. "Show me how much you care and do what you want with me."

"Yes," Heero sighed, pulling the other boy into his arms.

He laid Duo back, carefully pulling his hair out from underneath him. The thick, satiny locks flowed over the bed and the messy-haired boy buried his face in the clean, sweet-smelling mass, breathing in the essence of Duo. He grabbed a handful of the soft strands and brought them down and wrapped them around Duo's semi-aroused cock. With strong, firm strokes he began jacking the other boy off. The look of surprised passion sent a jolt to his member. He was glad he remained true to his normal ethics. If there was something that he didn't understand or wanted to learn about, he spent hours online researching what he needed to know. He'd even practiced on a blow-up doll he had a random man buy for him from an adult bookstore on the wrong side of town. Granted it was a female mannequin, but it had the right holes in the right places to hone his skills in seduction. One day he knew the braided boy would be in his bed and he had every intention of making him forget all the others who had come before him.

"Heero," Duo sighed, his legs moving restlessly against the soft sheets.

"Hn?"

"Please, no more teasing," Duo said, breathlessly.

"Yes," he cast around the room, looking for something. "Lube?"

"Heh," the braided boy laughed, "the drawer in the bedside table on the right hand side."

He grabbed the tube out of the drawer and smeared a thick layer onto his fingers. He slid one into Duo's hidden pucker, drawing it in and out until the tight muscle relaxed. He then slipped another digit in and began to scissor the two. He couldn't wait any longer so he pulled his fingers out, flipped the smaller boy over onto his hands and knees, slathered his own cock up and shoved it as deep as he could into the waiting orifice.

Duo moaned as Heero thrust in. The feeling of being filled to the brim made him want to beg, pled and ride that luscious pole slamming in and out of his willing body. It had been forever since he'd had a partner in pleasure and his body responded to every thrust and push. One particularly good shove hit his sweet spot and he nearly came off the bed.

"Hee-chan!" he cried, his sight starting to white out. Somehow the overly serious boy knew his way around the male body and while he didn't have the experience that Treize did, this felt more real than anything that over-paid courtesan did to him.

"Hn," Heero responded, pleased that his research paid off. He'd never seen the braided boy look so delicious. Chestnut hair splayed everywhere, violet eyes so dark with passion they looked almost black and creamy, pale skin glowing with an internal luminescence. He thrust in harder, wanting to see those glorious eyes glow with that special look that he knew would come as his did. The lithe body under him met and writhed under his, Duo's muscles clamping down with every motion; it nearly drove Heero over the edge.

The messy-haired boy reached down and began stroking Duo's neglected cock, the tip leaking copious amounts of fluid. He angled his cock to find that one, secret spot that drove the smaller boy insane. He grinned as he found it and the pale body beneath him nearly came off the bed. Tight rectal muscles clamped down on his cock and Duo came, shoot his load all over his chest, sheet and Heero's hand. The overly tight orifice stroked his member and threw him over the edge.

He collapsed on the fully sated body beneath him and they lay there trying to get their breath back. When he could move, he rolled off his lover and pulled him into his arms. Sleepy, wide violet eyes looked up at him with a question in them. He gently brushed sweaty hair off Duo's forehead and gently placed a kiss there.

"I'm not leaving, Baka," he murmured. "You're going to have to work harder than that to get rid of me." He gave the other boy a slight, half-grin and then his look became darker. "I'm not your father nor am I the self-centered jackass that Treize Khushrenada is."

"You mean Kushin-ramada, dontcha?" Duo answered, a slight, impish look lighting his face.

"Yeah, that too; now sleep."

"G'night, Hee-chan." Duo snuggled into Heero's arms and dozed off.

* * *

Owen Simpson sat in his stolen car and waited. He gave a self satisfied smirk as he considered the vehicle he had appropriated; one of the finest Winner owned and the best thing about it was that no one would realize it had been borrowed until well after its return. Now, he could sit in the comfort that he knew was his right and wait for the mental midget he called his oldest son.

It really perturbed him that his brat of a youngest boy now lived in the luxury that he had worked so hard to possess. That pissed him off more than anything. More than being in jail and much, much greater than having his cock almost shot off: now it lay useless in his pants. The doctors said there was a slight chance that he would regain function in that organ, but not to hold his breath. But Owen Simpson never backed down from a challenge. Look at him, free from jail and making arrangements to do away with the one person who could send him away for a very long time.

He saw a furtive motion from the backdoor of the house where his namesake had been put when Child Protective Services removed the boys from his care. He assessed the boy. In the months that he'd been away OJ had lost fat and gain muscle. No longer would he be considered the fat, dumb older brother. Now he looked more like Owen than ever. That was a boy the he could be proud of. Not like that skinny, sickly little bitch his wife had tried to foist off on him. He knew, no matter what multiple DNA tests told him, there is no way that pale, fragile, effeminate person could be of his get. Although, he did remind Owen of someone that he knew.

He jumped as OJ slammed into the car, threw open the door and flopped down in the seat next to his father. He turned and gave the old man a wide, pleased grin.

"Pops!" he bellowed, trying to hug his father. "I'm missed you so much!"

"Pops? Where in the hell did you learn that?" he snarled, glaring at his son.

"That's what my foster dad wants me to call him. And I just thought…."

"You're not paid to think, understand?"

OJ sank into himself, his jubilation at seeing his father for the first time in months dampened by the older man's anger. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, unable to stop himself from pouting.

"Good, now listen here. I've got plans for Duo and you're going to help me finish them, okay?" He kept his words small and simple just so the idiot next to him could understand. He really didn't have time to explain things better.

OJ shot him a sullen look. "Whataya want from me?"

"Where the hell did you learn to talk? You weren't raised in the streets, why must you talk like a guttersnipe?"

"Duo talks like this all the time and it's never bothered you before," OJ stated, glaring at his father.

Owen took one look at that stubborn, obstinate face, drew back his fist and slammed it into his son's jaw. The boy's head rocked back against the door, nearly shattering the glass. He could see the young man's hands clenching and releasing fists. He gave him a soft, gentle smile.

"OJ, why do you make me do things like that?" Owen asked, carefully ruffling the boy's hair. "I didn't bring you out here so that we could fight. As soon as we take care of the Duo problem, then we can go and find a new mommy-type person and we'll start a new life and family, okay?"

"Yes, sir," OJ muttered. "What do you want me to do?"

"That's my boy. All you have to do is make it so that Winner and his family want nothing to do with that dumb bitch, understand?"

"Yeah, I can do that." He turned to the door and reached for the handle.

"Leaving so soon? We haven't had time to catch up."

"If I'm gone too long, they're going to notice and then I'll really be in for it." He gave his father a tight smile. "I'll see what I can do about getting Duo kicked out of the Winner place. But it's going to take awhile. Mr. Winner thinks that he hung the moon and all that crap, okay."

"That's fine. Just let me know when you can."

"I will. How do I reach you if I need to?"

"I've got a burner cell and the number is 555-0306, got it?"

"Yeah, 0306, got it." He slipped out of the car and headed toward the dark house that he now called home. He didn't look back as he heard the car leave, he just kept walking. He reached the backdoor, cracked it open and slipped into the warm, sweet-scented darkness of the farmhouse-style kitchen. As he quietly closed the door, the lights in the room flared to life and he whirled around to see who had caught him sneaking back in. Standing there with tousled hair was his foster father, Daniel. He gave the younger man a knowing smile.

"We'd better do something about that jaw," Daniel said, moving over to the refrigerator, grabbing the towel stuffed into the handle and filling it with ice. "Been to see your father I take it."

"Yes, sir," OJ muttered. "Sorry."

"Can't say I like it, but I do understand. Why'd he punch you?"

"I said something he didn't like. He wants me to do something, but I'm not sure I want to do it. If I do this thing, then we can be a family again. But it means hurting someone who's done nothing but try to win his love." He gave the older man a troubled look.

"What's he want you to do?"

"Pops, he wants me to get Duo thrown out of the Winner house for something, but I don't know what or how I'm supposed to do this. I never knew how much time I spent on the edge until I came here. This is the first time since my stepmother died that I've felt like I belong somewhere. Stupid, huh?"

"OJ, there's nothing wrong with the way you feel. Those feelings are what make you, you. Now, what do you intend on doing to your half-brother?"

"Don't know," he murmured. "You know, there's not a lot I can do is there? I mean I'm not allowed to approach him or any of his friends, right? So, how could I manage to do something to him?"

"That's true," Daniel answered.

"I'm not smart enough to do anything about him on my own, now am I?"

"You're plenty smart…."

"Not like him," OJ broke in, "and not like Duo. Those two are like peas in a pod. They're both smart and can pick up on things a lot faster than me. Even if we didn't have the DNA, I'd know that Duo was dad's, he's that smart."

Daniel reached out and gave the young man a gentle bear hug and shooed him upstairs. "Bed and then tomorrow we can figure out how to deal with your father. I will warn you about one thing."

"Yes, Pops?"

"I'm going to call the police and let them know that Owen was here, understand?"

"But why?"

"To protect not only Duo, but more importantly, you; now off to bed, young man."

"Yes, Pops. G'night."

"G'night." Daniel waited until the boy had disappeared up the stairs, then he picked up the phone and hit speed dial. He waited until the other end was picked up. "Yuy, we've got a problem," he quietly said into the receiver.


	15. Chapter 15

**Things are slowly coming to a head! Here's another chapter and I hope you like it.**

**Legal stuff: I don't own Gundam Wing. Never have and never will (except in my dreams), so don't sue.**

**Walking on Sunshine**

Duo came bounding into the school building; his feet seemed to have wings. He caught sight of one of his favorite targets for teasing. Wufei Chang stood there talking with Sally Po; the two of them were in a deep conversation, excluding the rest of their friends.

"Wuffles!" Duo shouted, barreling down on his unsuspecting victim and throwing himself into the Chinese boy's arms. "How ya doin' this fine mornin'?"

"Get off me,bèndàn," Wufei snarled. "I don't have time for you today."

Duo sniffed, like he was about to cry. "Hee-chan, he's being mean to me."

"Leave him alone, baka. He's in a pissy mood, as usual. That and I think he was hitting on Sally."

"I wasn't hitting on her. It's almost time for prom and I was asking her to the dance."

"Wuffles' got a girlfriend. Wuffles' got a girlfriend," Duo sang, dancing around the irritated teenager.

"Yuy, what's gotten in to him today?" Wufei asked, looking at the Japanese boy.

"Nothing that I know of, why did you ask me?"

"Because you're hovering over him like a hawk," he said, looking the messy-haired boy in the eyes. "Be careful, Relena has been stalking about looking for you. She seems to think that you're going to ask her to the dance."

"Wonderful," Heero responded, shaking his head. "Just what I need, some bimbo pouting because I didn't ask her to prom. Let me guess, she wants me to wear a pink tux."

"No, just a pink cummerbund and tie; oh, and don't forget the pink limo too."

"Ug! She's f-ing nuts if she thinks I'm taking her anywhere in that monstrosity." He wrapped his fist into Duo's braid and dragged him into the nearest bathroom. He walked to the back and shoved the braided idiot into the handicap stall. He pushed him against the wall and began devouring the chestnut-haired boy's mouth.

Duo moaned into Heero's open mouth and draped one leg over the larger boy's hip. Their groins ground together, the passion rising between them.

"Duo Maxwell, please report to the Counselor's office," the voice of the school administrative assistant came over the intercom. "Duo Maxwell, please report to Counselor's office, immediately."

Heero groaned as he reluctantly drew his lips away from his eager partner. "Damn, just when things are getting interesting," he murmured into the braided boy's ear. "Let's get one thing straight."

"Hm?" Duo moaned, looking up at his messy-haired lover with glazed eyes.

"I ever catch you in Chang's arms again and I'll kill him, understand?"

"Yes, Hee-chan," he responded, slipping out of his arms. "I'd better go before they send a posse out for me."

"Go, I'll see you later."

"See ya in class," he chirped, heading out of the stall, stopping only to fix his clothes and hair.

Duo bounded down the hallway, heading to the councilor's office and wondering what the hell was going on. He didn't think that he was in trouble. His grades had actually improved since his coming to live with the Winners (not that they were horrible before). And now he wasn't falling asleep in his morning classes, there wasn't anybody who would really be gunning for him, now. Hell, even Ms. Une treated him like a person now. She was trying to make things up to him, but he had no desire to except her mute apologies. Right now he was too pissed!

He bounded into Professor G's office and came to a screeching halt. Sitting on one of the chairs was OJ. He sat up a little straighter and gave Duo a fragile, small smile.

"Hey, Duo," he said, standing up and coming toward him.

Duo stepped back, putting some space between them. "What do you want, OJ?"

"Look, I'm sorry about everything I did. I knew what dad was doing felt really wrong, but all I wanted was his love. I became everything he wanted as an athlete, but I couldn't match your mind." He gave a disgusted snort. "Maybe if we'd been able to combine ourselves into one person, we might have equaled the perfect son for him."

"Yeah," Duo responded, sighing and sitting down. "What can I do to help you?"

"It's not what you can do for me; it's what I can do for you." He took a deep breath and sat back down, so that they were almost eye to eye. "Dad got a hold of me the other night and he wants me to make it look like you're the naughty kid that he tried to tell everyone that you were. But I can't do it. You always looked out for me, even when I didn't want you too. Not only that, but you even helped me stay on the football team, by lending me a hand with my homework when I didn't understand it." He reached under his seat and pulled out a box. He held it out and waited for the braided boy to take it.

Duo looked at it, dubiously. "What's in it?"

"Just some old pictures I found under dad's bed. I thought you might enjoy seeing our grandmother, on the old man's side." He gave Duo a slight smile. "I think you'll find it very… um… interesting."

The braided boy carefully opened the box as his half-brother left. In it lay a chaotic jumble of photos from the sixties, seventies, eighties and nineties. They were all of a woman who looked vaguely familiar. She had Owen's blonde hair, but the deep amethyst eyes that stared at him everyday in the mirror looked up at him from the pile of shiny paper. Her features had the same delicate refinement as his own. Now he truly knew where he fit into the family dynamic and that no matter what the old bastard said, he was definitely Owen's get.

"Well, fuck me," he murmured. He carefully closed the box and headed off to his homeroom class. Not even finding someone who could love him after all he'd been through could warm his soul like the items in that small box. He finally had a place in this world.

* * *

Solo Maxwell sat in his car and watched as the students poured out of the school building after the bell rang. He hoped that he was far enough away not to attract the wrong kind of attention, but close enough that he could keep an eye on his nephews. Granted, OJ wasn't his sister's, but she had always considered him one of her kids. And he would protect both boys if possible. But if it came to a choice, Duo was his first priority.

The alarm on his watch went off, reminding him that it was time for his medication. His time in the jungles of the world had left him scarred, both emotionally and physically. Malaria often left him suffering from tertian fevers and while there were drugs that would prevent him from being totally bedridden during the time, they left him feeling sick and drawn out. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed the small pill carrier he filled every morning. As he started to open the container, a slight noise, no more than a scuff of shoe sole against the pavement, had him reaching for the gun hidden in the newspaper on his lap.

"Easy," a familiar voice murmured from his blind spot. His partners had returned and they slipped quietly into the backseat.

"How'd it go?" Solo asked, removing his hand from the weapon, fishing out his medication and swallowing the capsules with a gulp of water from a Thermos.

"No prob," Odel Bernett answered.

Solo looked in the rearview mirror at the two men in the backseat. Identical jet black hair and electric blue eyes in light-skinned faces of classical beauty met his eyes. Then he could see the differences; Odel, the oldest, his face showed signs of the overly responsible man he was. Odin's youthful brashness shone from every pore, his eyes restlessly shifting from one place to the other never missing a thing. Both worked with the older man in the jungles of various third world countries. Being a mercenary had its perks and downfalls.

"I'll be able to mingle with your nephew and his friends," Odin responded to the unasked question. "As a matter of fact, I was accosted by him and his friends. They asked me if I needed anything and told me how they were so happy that I've come to this school." He canted his head to one side. "They're really great kids. Duo reminds me a little of you; always worried about someone else."

"We fed them the story you concocted, about how our parents died, leaving my poor, baby brother in my hands and that we've come to Winnerton to make a fresh start."

"Good," Solo murmured. "We'll go to home base now and get settled there."

"So, you found a place?"

"Yeah, there was an old garage for sale and I snagged it. It's got all that we need for the cover with an added bonus."

"Bonus?" Odin asked, his eyes glittering.

"There's a three bedroom house attached to the business so we won't have to go too far for lodging. That was the biggest selling point." Solo looked in the rearview mirror, a malicious grin splitting his face. "Owen's gonna be very sorry when I get done with him."

"And what was your cover story? For the family I mean," Odel said returning the smirk.

"A missionary. Boy is he gonna be surprised." He started up the vehicle and pulled away from the school; not remembering the adage about the best laid plans.


	16. Chapter 16

**Here's the latest chapter. Hope everyone enjoys it.**

**Now for the legal BS: don't own, don't sue! If I did own them, poor Duo would be walking bow-legged all the time!**

**The Bitch is Back**

Duo hurried down a dim, slightly disused hallway in the school. He had found it one day when he was trying to lose OJ and his buddies. The almost pristine floors told him that it hadn't been used like the normal ones. At the end he had discovered a hidden fallout shelter. The dust-filled room worked as a hiding spot when he wanted to skip class and the hall worked as a way to get away from his tormentors. But this time he wasn't hiding from bullies; no today he tried to avoid one Odin Bernett.

The dark-haired boy was new to the school and insisted on sticking to Duo's side like a leech. Everywhere he went, the other boy followed. They even had the exact same schedule! Heero carried a chip on his shoulder about his rival and the more they had to deal Odin, the quieter the cobalt-eyed boy became. It was driving Duo over a cliff. At first he had enjoyed having two great looking boys fighting over him, but Hee-chan's stoic personality made jealousy a very poor fit.

He had almost reached the end of the hall when a group stepped out. The clashing scents of perfume, hairspray and deodorant tickled his nose and he slowed down, coming to a stop where he could easily see the group. It was Relena and her cadre of mean girls. The whole troupe dressed in pastel colors for that day. Various shades of pink clashed with peach, lavender and seafoam. The queen bee stepped up and shoved her index finger into Duo's chest.

"Maxwell," she snarled.

"Relena," he drawled, stepping back out of finger range. "How can I help you?"

"I just thought you should know exactly what Heero thinks of you," she sweetly said. "He's just using you to quench a need that I can't right now. And when he's ready, we'll move in together, get married and leave your skanky ass behind." She clicked her tongue lightly. "Poor, poor Duo, such a worthless whore that no one could ever love him."

"Relena, why don't you go look in someone's ear or some place else exciting?" he answered, cocking one hip and crossing his arms across his chest. "Maybe pay attention to that poor, spavined creature you call a horse." He looked at the hovering crowd. "Do you know that every time she mounts her horse, it sighs? Almost like he's saying, _'do I really need to take this lard ass on me? She could use to lose a few pounds.'_ Or at least that's what it seems to me." Several of the girls giggled behind their hands. The laughter lasted until the blonde girl's hand flicked out and slapped her rival across the mouth.

Duo carefully wiped the blood off his face from the lip she split. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I don't want to see you again. If you come home, I'll tell my father that you attacked me and tried to rape me," she flashed him a triumphant smile. "And who do you think that my daddy will believe, hm? Me, his loving daughter or you, the former whore, leech?"

"Fuck off, you pig-faced, fat bitch!" he snarled, as he pushed past her. "You and Heero deserve each other." He headed further down the hall to his hidey hole, his eyes burning and the lump in his throat threatening to choke him.

Relena smiled as she watched the retreating back. "There, I put that user in his place. Now all I have to do is find Heero and get things back on track." She headed out of the hallway and back to the more populated areas of the school. She pulled up short as a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Relena," Odin murmured, reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist. "I hope you don't intend trying to frame Duo for something he would never do. If you were, I'd have to stop you."

"Oh, really?" she sneered. "And how do you intend to do that? If you tried telling anyone, I could just say that you made it up and you're working with Maxwell. As a matter of fact, you both tried to rape me."

He smiled at her and pulled a small, silver and black box out of his pocket. He pressed a button and the whole conversation between her and Duo was played out, right to the slap on the braided boy's face. "I don't think it will be too difficult with this as evidence. And the first person I'll let listen to it will be one Heero Yuy. Then he'll really dump your ass for Duo. Although, I think Duo is a shade too good for that serious bastard." He took one menacing step forward. "You try to get Maxwell into trouble and I'll make you regret it, understand?" he growled, glaring down at her.

She shrieked her frustration and pushed past the arrogant, dark-haired boy. The other girls followed behind her, all but one. Hilde Schbeiker stood there giving him a wide-eyed look.

"Whatcha looking at, Sweet-thang?" he drawled.

"If Relena causes Duo trouble, I'll let Heero know. However, if she goes after you, you're on your own," she stated, tossing her hair and flouncing off.

"I've dealt with bitches before," he hollered after her. "And I'll deal with them again. I think I can handle it." He checked his pocket for the digital recorder that he used to tape Relena's rant and headed off in the direction he saw Duo disappear. Solo would kill him if anything happened to his precious nephew.

The long-haired boy had a serious crush on Yuy and there's no telling where he ran to. He followed the dimly lighted hall until it ended in a steel door. The heavy doors were cracked, slightly and he carefully opened them. The sound of soft sobbing drew him like a moth to a candle flame.

In the furthest corner from the entry, Odin found a crying Duo. He didn't say anything, just slipped down beside him, gathered him into his arms and held him as he cried himself out. When his breath started coming in shaky sobs, the older boy let him go.

"Better," Odin murmured, stroking the chestnut bangs away from the creamy, vellum skin. Brilliant amethyst eyes looked up at him, crystalline tears making them shine like the precious stones they were. Damn, if only the braided boy was a few years older.

"Whataya want from me," Duo croaked his, voice raw from crying.

"Nothing," he answered. "I was sent by your uncle to see how you were getting along."

Duo gave him a wary look and drew farther from him. "What uncle? My father was an only child and mom had a brother who had been a missionary, but he was killed in some third world country when I was 'bout nine."

"That's what Owen told you, but it's a lie."

"Why the fuck should I believe that?"

"Because your old man was a self-centered egomaniac, who thinks the world revolves around him and his needs. Believe me, when Solo gets his hands on that bastard there won't be enough left of him to bury." He gave Duo a vulpine smile. "Or at least the body will never be found." He stood up and held out a hand to the younger boy. "C'mon, let's go meet your uncle. He's itching to get to know you again."

* * *

Solo paced back and forth, wearing a hole in the carpet of the ramshackle house they'd bought when coming to Winnerton. He hated the fact that he couldn't be the one getting to know Duo. He did remember quite a bit about his sister's little demon.

One of the few times that he had visited the family, the small figure had tackled him in his excitement. Only after they had sat down for dinner did Solo realize that his wallet was missing. When he looked down the table, he could see his small nephew playing with it. Angeline had been mortified, but he had laughed it off. The boy had a natural talent for picking pockets. He had also noticed something that worried him: Owen's treatment of both his sister and her child. That coupled with the barely hidden bruises on her wrists and arms worried him. He offered an escape route, but she refused him. Her place was with her husband and children.

"Dammit!" he swore, pulling his keys out of his pocket and heading for the door.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'?" Odel drawled, standing with his arms akimbo.

"I'm goin' to that school and drag my nephew out before that bastard who killed my sister does the same to him."

"What, you don't trust Odin?"

"It's not that, it's just…." The sound of two sets of feet on the front porch drew his attention to the front door. He motioned to Odel and they flanked the door, hands on pistols, ready to take out anyone who tried to enter. Three soft knocks warned him who stood in front of the portal.

"Dude," came an unfamiliar voice. "I thought this was your place."

"It is, however I live with my brother and your uncle," Odin said just before he opened the door. "And they tend to be a little jumpy. It's better to knock first and avoid the hassle than to try and put someone back together. We ain't the Red Cross. C'mon, Duo let's go in and meet your uncle"

"Oh," Duo responded.

The door swung open and Solo stood face to face with the cheerful boy he remembered. He hadn't changed much, just gotten taller and his features were more angular and less childish. He cursed under his breath; he hated the bastard that had declared him dead and robbed him of his sister's last days and his nephew's life.

He rocked back as a fist caught him in the jaw. Duo stood before him, his amethyst eyes blazing. Tears filled those beautiful orbs and the boy's face was the color of freshly fallen snow. "You sonofabitch," Duo growled.

"Duo," Solo breathed, reaching out and gathering the boy into his arms. Both men began to sob quietly.


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry about the wait! Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it. And remember, authors' are praise driven. The more reviews I get the easier and faster the chapters come…..**

**And as always, don't own, so don't sue! I just borrow the GW boys and let their true personalities run wild!**

**Look What the Cat Dragged In**

Heero paced back and forth, wearing a hole in the carpet at Quatre's house. He had come right here when Duo didn't show up for the rest of his classes that day. Of course, Relena cornering him in the cafeteria didn't help matters. She had informed him that she had last seen the braided boy with Odin Bernett. He rose to his feet and left the cafeteria, tired of looking at the girl's smug, self-assured face. Hilde caught him in the hallway and succinctly explained everything that had happened between Duo, Odin and Relena. She'd scurried away at the dark, royally pissed-off look on the cobalt-eyed boy's face. Fortunately for the girl in pink, Trowa, Quatre and Wufei had followed him out and prevented him from doing something that he'd regret later.

They had gone looking for their friend, searching every nook and cranny they could find, and found no sign of the braided boy or the interloper who had come to his rescue. That really raised Heero's hackles and by the end of the day, he was in a near panic. Mr. Winner and the police had been informed and they had an ongoing manhunt. All his family and friends could do is wait, and Heero Yuy wasn't a patient man.

Quatre raised his head and looked toward the door. He then rose to his feet and hurried to it, a brilliant smile lighting his features. Duo stepped through the door, followed by a taller, much older man, Odin Bernett and a man that could only be his brother. The braided boy's face was covered with drying tears and he held on to the blonde man's hand tightly. He looked happy and at peace, a soft smile gracing his tearstained face.

"Hey, guys," Duo said when he was far enough in that the door could be closed. "This is my uncle Solo: he's my mom's older brother and until today I thought he was dead."

Heero walked over to his boyfriend, grabbed his braid and pulled him into a tight embrace. He nearly missed the three other men reaching into their jackets, most likely for weapons hidden there. He pointedly ignored the possible threat and squeezed the stuffing out of Duo.

"Baka," he muttered into one delicate, shell-shaped ear. "Did it ever occur to you to call?"

"Sorry, Hee-chan, but things kinda happened really fast. I mean, Solo's supposed to be dead. Killed on some missionary work or at least that's what Owen used to say." He canted his head to one side and a serious look crossed his features. "But that bastard is a known liar, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Heero growled. "C'mon, let's get you upstairs and you can rest. Then we'll worry about getting you something to eat."

"Hee-chan, I'm not really all that hungry, we had pizza before coming here and I'm stuffed." He gave the serious boy an impish look. "They say teenagers eat a lot, but I've never seen anyone eat more than those three! They each had an entire pizza all to themselves and they finished what I couldn't from mine."

Solo watched as his nephew walked away with the boy who had stolen his heart. He turned his attention back to Zayeed Winner. He gave the man a serious look and then glared at Relena, letting her know that he knew all about her nefarious plans for the braided boy. "Mr. Winner," he finally said. "I think we need to talk about things. Is there a place that we can go where we won't be interrupted?"

"Of course, if you'll follow me to my study," he answered, moving toward the room. He stopped and looked at his only daughter. "I think it's time for you to start your homework, Relena. Go to your room and when I'm done here, we'll have a nice long talk, okay?"

"Yes, father," she responded, her heart sinking to her knees. She was in trouble and knew it. She started toward the stairs then changed her mind, stepping over to Heero and placing a hand on his arm.

"Heero," she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Get out of my sight!" he growled, pulling his arm away. "Right now I don't want to see you!"

"But Heero," she whined. "I thought….."

"Just go to your room and get out of my sight," Heero snapped, making sure that he stood between her and Duo. "You threatened Duo, you and the rest of your posse chased him away from the school, putting him in danger, and now you want to whine to me about how mean I and what a slut he is. It's not going to happen. Right now I'd rather marry a pig than you!"

"You know," Duo broke in, "that's legal in a few states."

"Didn't father tell you to go to your room?" Quatre asked, looking pointedly at her. "I think right now, you should follow his request. If you don't, it might not be good for you."

"And what about me? What about my feelings and dreams?" she demanded. "I've always dreamed about marrying Heero Yuy, having a family and a house all decorated in pink. Now those dreams are crumbling to dust all because of HIM!" She turned on her heels and stormed up the stairs, stopping only once at the top of the stairs to flip the group below off.

The boys stood there until they heard her door slam shut. Trowa chuckled, breaking the tension in the air. He wrapped an arm around Quatre and started to head into the kitchen.

"C'mon," he said over his shoulder. "While the adults are discussing the whole situation, we'd better finish our homework."

"You go ahead, we'll be right there," Heero called after him. He drew Duo into his arms and kissed him deeply, savoring the sweet taste of his mouth. He pushed their bodies against one of the walls and commenced to devour those sweet, soft lips.

"Hee-chan," Duo moaned. "Dontcha think we should take this upstairs?"

"Hn."

* * *

Zayeed led the three older men into his study. The one calling himself Solo made him more than a little nervous. The trio looked nothing like missionaries and he hadn't missed the movement of all of them toward the insides of their jackets. He got the feeling that there was something more going on than met the eye.

The one called Solo sat in one of the chair opposite the desk and waited patiently for the Zayeed to sit in his chair. The other two arranged themselves on either side of him, right hands grasping left wrists; like members of the Secret Service. The almost military pose put the man on alert.

"Mr. Winner," Solo broke into his thoughts. "I'm Solo Maxwell, Duo's uncle. We've just gotten back into the States after being in several different countries and out of communication with our families. Imagine my surprise when I went to Detroit and found that my sister and her family were living here. We get here only to find that my sister is dead and my nephew was being whored out by his father. That does not make Solo a happy boy."

"I'm sure that your surprise is no weaker than mine," Zayeed responded, his hands clenching and unclenching with the frustration he felt. "Duo is a very dear friend to my boy, even saved him from being raped by O.J. and there is nothing that my family won't do to correct the errors made by his father." He gave the three men a rueful smile. "Well, most of my family. It seems that both your nephew and my only daughter are fighting over the same man; and Duo's winning."

"Yeah, Odin told me what happened at school. If you want to hear it he's got it on tape."

"No thank you," Zayeed responded. "I am just now realizing what a spoiled brat I've raised. I'm sure that her mother is turning in her grave." He sighed and looked down at his hands.

"We all make mistakes, Mr. Winner. That's why they make pencils with erasers. Unfortunately, you can't easily remove poor parenting in an instant."

"I don't think that you came here to talk to me about my daughter. Or that isn't the whole reason you're here."

"We needed to bring Duo back and I wanted you to meet me and the Bernett brothers." He pointed to the taller, older one of the two. "This is Odel and the one on my left is Odin. I've assigned Odin to the task of watching over Duo and his friends. I wouldn't put it past Owen to hurt my nephew by injuring or killing one of his friends. And since you've fired him, your family is now a target also."

Zayeed closed his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. "That's something I was afraid would happen. I thought I knew Owen, but I guess that I really didn't. How could I have worked with the man for the last six years and not seen what kind of a person he truly was. All I saw was the mask that he wore for business." He looked at Solo and gave him a sharp smile. "You, I know, aren't a missionary. No man of God is that quick on the draw. And when Heero accosted Duo I saw the movements toward the inside of your jackets. Now, do we have to dance around the truth or are you gentlemen going to tell me the truth?"

Solo threw back his head and laughed. "I guess that I should have expected that. You're a very sharp man, Zayeed Winner." He steepled his fingers in front of his face; studying the man who had taken his nephew in. "We are mercenaries and have been fighting in various conflicts all over the world. That's why my sister couldn't get a hold of me. We're black ops and most of our missions are top secret."

"Are you going to take Duo away from us?"

"No, things will go on as they have been. Duo needs to finish school and we never know when we're going to be called back into battle. The only thing I can promise is that if I'm called away, Odin will stay here and help to protect the boy. At least until Owen is taken back into custody." He held out his hand to the man. "Is that a deal?"

"It's a deal. And thank you."

"You're welcome," Solo responded, standing up to leave. "I can assume that you'll take care of your daughter and her attitude?"

"Don't worry; I'm planning on having a very long talk with Relena as soon as you gentlemen leave. Duo will be safe from her."

"Then we'll leave things in your hands. C'mon you two, let's head out."

"Yes, sir," both brothers responded together. The three men headed out toward the front door and Zayeed could hear them talking to the boys, telling them goodbye and then the front door opened and closed. The older man sighed with relief. At least Duo would be safe from his father with Odin hanging around the school. Safety from Relena would be an entirely different matter. He would rather deal with a hundred thousand corporate raiders, than one spoiled broken-hearted teenaged girl.

'_And how did she get so spoiled?' _he asked himself as he headed up the stairs. _'Yes, yes shut up self!'_


	18. Chapter 18

**Here's the newest chapter and thank you to all who have waited so patiently. I am very sorry that it took so long to get it to you, but I've had several health problems which resulted in me being Prednisone (an oral steroid) for my breathing and that crap really messes with my muse. Again, thank you and hopefully the next one won't take as long.**

**Don't own, so don't sue! Unless you really want my book collection or my animals, because that' about all I have of value! **

**A Long Slow Dance to Hell**

Owen gripped the steering wheel of his stolen car tightly. The feel of the plastic and steel of the wheel bending under the strength of his grasp seemed to ease the fire burning in his soul. His two worthless sons were amongst the crowd of teenagers that roiled from the high school building and he strained his eyes to pick them out of the mass of humanity below.

OJ lumbered out and got into a car that Owen could only assume belonged to his foster family. The ungrateful wretch actually looked pleased with himself and was laughing with whomever sat in the front seat of the vehicle. Then he saw him exit through a side door… the one who had ruined his life… Duo.

The braided boy came out with the little blonde son of Owen's former employer. Behind him Owen could make out Yuy's kid and the tall, lanky form of the Barton boy. Owen's betrayer turned toward the shorter of the dark-haired boys and leapt onto his back, wrapping his legs around the slender waist. He was shouting something and waving one hand around like a fool. The angry man had never seen his son looking some much like a child before. It took all his restraint not to put the car into gear and mow the whole schoolyard down. He slowly moved out, heading for his safe house like a wounded animal heading for its den to lick wounds received in battle. He'd come back and when he did, there wouldn't be any laughter. Just rivers of tears and blood.

Duo rode on Heero's back. He loved the feeling of the muscles moving under his thighs. The scent of the gorgeous man who had become so important to him drove him to distraction. All he wanted to do is wrap his legs around He-chan's waist and let him pound him into the mattress. The mere thought of their activities started to get him hard and he rubbed his arousal against the small of Heero's back. The deep, primal growl the escaped from the chocolate-haired boy's throat should be illegal, it was so hot.

Duo reached down and licked the defenseless ear of his lover. "Something the matter?" he murmured into that beautiful shell.

"Hn," Heero rumbled. "Stop it, Baka."

"And why is that?"

"I have no intention of fucking you into the seats with Trowa and Quatre watching."

The braided boy pouted. "It might be interesting to do it with an audience, He-chan," he said, purring in that perfect ear.

Heero dropped him to the ground, forcing Duo to either put his legs down or land on his ass. He staggered to his feet and found his hand gripped tightly in his lover's hand. They walked, hand in hand, to the limo waiting for them and their two companions.

Rasheed stood at attention beside the open door. As soon as the four boys were in and seated, he closed the door and returned to his seat in the front of the vehicle. The quiet voices from the back didn't bother the man. He truly enjoyed the job of driving Master Quatre and Master Duo around, even when the braided boy got a little rowdy. He lowered the partition between the two seats.

"Where to, Master Quatre?"

"Home," Duo broke in. "Heero's got a raging hard-on and it needs some professional attention!"

"Ah," the older man responded, his face flushing red.

"Hn," Heero reacted. He reached over and slapped Duo in the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for, He-chan?"

"Shut up, Baka." He pulled the slight form into his arms and cradled him against his side. The rest of the journey passed in quiet contentment. Quatre and Trowa sat side by side, talking softly and gazing deeply into each other's eyes. Duo rested his head against Heero's chest, just reveling in the feeling of being near people who cared about him.

* * *

When they reached home, the little blonde and his boyfriend wandered into the kitchen, looking for an afterschool snack. Duo grabbed Heero by the hand and dragged him up the stairs toward his bedroom. They burst through the door and the braided boy knocked his lover onto the queen-sized bed, tied his hands to the headboard, walked over to his computer and brought up the media player. Buck-Tick's _'Tango Swanka' _blared out of the speakers.

He began to dance to the bass line, his slim hips swaying and grinding to the beat laid down by the percussion. He grabbed the hem of his tee-shirt and slowly began to strip it off, then threw the garment to one side. He jumped up on the bed and crawled very seductively up Heero's struggling body. He straddled his lover's hips and ground their groins together, moving his hips in a circular motion. His slender fingers pushed up the messy-haired boy's shirt, allowing himself access to that perfect expanse of lithe muscle and He-chan's nipples. He stopped his motions when he read Heero's body; the teenager was near the edge and Duo had no intention of bring him over that precipice until they both were worked into a frenzy. He smiled down at the serious boy.

"Problems, He-chan?" he murmured, his fingers working on the band holding his hair in its tight braid. He had never removed it from its confines in front of his lover before. As a matter of fact, the only time he had ever let it hang free was when he'd dated Treize. But other than that short time, he had never felt the need to allow any of his _'dates'_ to see him with his hair down.

"Let me up, Baka," Heero growled, straining then pulling his hands free from their restrains. He reached up and stroked the pale, exposed skin of Duo's chest. His hands wandered of their own accord across that beautiful expanse. He flipped them over, pinning the slight form beneath his. "My Angel. My beautiful, irreplaceable angel," he said, looking down at Duo's slight form haloed by chestnut hair.

"Heero, make love to me," Duo sighed. He reached up and wrapped his arms around the other boy.

Heero brought his mouth down and kissed the braided boy, hard. He made quick work of the rest of their clothing, tossing it away with reckless abandon. He wanted to take his time, but his body demanded its release. He reached over into the drawer where they kept the lube and grabbed up the first tube that came to hand. He broke apart from Duo for a brief moment, greased up his fingers and slid them into the willing body.

Duo arched his back, trying to draw the digits deeper into him. His hips bucked and twitched, his body clamped down on the invaders.

"He-chan, now," he whined. "Get in me now!"

The messy-haired boy folded his lover in half, pulled his fingers out and slathered the lube on his cock. He drew back and slammed their bodies together, relishing the feeling of the tight body beneath him.

Duo flipped their bodies over and took control of the session. He rolled his hips in a circle until Heero's hard cock hit his sweet spot. His head snapped back and his long, satiny hair tickled the tops of Heero's thighs. Passion darkened amethyst eyes glazed as his body rocked with Heero's. Duo controlled the pace of their joining and he slowed things down to stretch out their hunger.

Heero rolled them over with a growl that was more beast than human. He turned the chestnut beauty into a pretzel and pounded into him, wiping out any last trace of the men that had been there before him. He claimed and marked his territory, proving to his lover that only he mattered. He had explained to Duo that the first time they made love, he'd taken the braided boy's virginity. Others were there before him, but they didn't count as the act was no better than rape. A few good, deep thrusts threw Duo over the edge and Heero followed soon after. They collapsed in a heap of sweaty limbs and the satin floss of Duo's hair bound them tightly together.

"Koibito," Heero whispered in his lover's ear. "I can't believe that you chose me."

"Hee-chan, that's supposed to be my line," the chestnut-haired beauty murmured back. "I don't understand why you want to be with me, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I love you more and more each day and nothing is going to change that. No matter what happens in the future, please remember what we have right now, okay?"

"Hn," was the only answer before they fell asleep.

* * *

Owen put down the binoculars he had been using to watch his faithless whore of a son, then turned and punched the nearest tree. Yuy's boy spent way too much time in the company of his property and Duo wasn't adverse in teaching the messy-haired teen more than a few of his harem tricks. Ones that Owen and his companions had taught the boy.

"You know," came a female voice behind him. "If you keep that up, you're going to get caught." Relena Winner stepped out from the trees and gave the fugitive a baneful glare. "But I think the two of us can help each other. You want Duo and Duo has someone that I want. If we work together we both can have what, or should I say who, we want."


End file.
